FRANK 


-   « 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


"  1  In-  voice  of  the  umpire  announced  :  '  Man  is  out !'  "    (See  page  C'J) 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S 
SKILL 


BY 

BURT  L.  STANDISH 

AUTHOR  OF 

"Frank  M  Swell's  Schooldays,"  "  Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  W«st," 

"  Fraak  Merriwell's  Chums,"  "  Frank  Merriwell's  Foos," 

"  Frank  Merriwell  Down  South,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA 

DAVID   McKAY,   PUBLISHER 

604-8  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE 


Copyright,  1989 
If  STREET  A  SMITH 

PrxU  MerriweU'*  SMI 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S  SKILL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

DEFENDING   THE   WEAK. 

"Ouch!    Leggo!" 

"I'll  leggo  after  I've  given  you  a  good  shaking,  you 
sassy  little  rascal !" 

"Don't!     You  hurt!" 

"I  mean  to !     Call  me  a  stiff,  will  you !     Take  that !" 

Slap ! — slap ! 

The  two  blows,  struck  with  the  hand  open,  fell  on  the 
ears  of  the  luckless  urchin,  causing  him  to  howl  with 
pain. 

"Stop  it,  ye  ornery  skunk !" 

These  words  came  from  neither  the  barefooted  boy 
nor  the  man  who  was  maltreating  him.  They  were 
spoken  by  a  tall,  gawky,  country-looking  young  fellow 
dressed  in  a  bicycle  suit,  who  had  just  issued  from  a 
hotel  in  Fort  Worth,  Texas,  and  thus,  by  accident,  came 
upon  the  struggle  that  was  taking  place  before  the  door. 

On  the  veranda  in  front  of  the  hotel  sat  a  young  man 
who  was  laughing  as  if  greatly  amused  by  the  struggles 
and  cries  of  the  unfortunate  boy. 


2035362 


8  Defending  the  Weak. 

The  other  man,  who  had  the  boy  by  the  collar,  looked 
up  in  surprise. 

"Hey?"  he  exclaimed.     "Did  you  speak  to  me?" 

"Yeou  bet  I  did,  b'gosh!"  was  the  prompt  answer 
from  the  tall  lad. 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"I  told  ye  ter  stop  hittin'  that  air  boy,  by  thunder ! 
An'  I  meant  it,  too!" 

"Oh,  you  did?     Well,  who  are  you?" 

"I'm  Ephraim  Gallup,  from  Varmont,  by  chaowder ! 
an'  I  don't  like  to  see  a  great  big,  hombly  man  like  yeou 
a-pickin'  on  a  boy  of  that  size." 

"Perhaps  you  may  not  like  it,  but  what  are  you  going 
to  do  about  it?" 

"Do  ?  Why,  darn  my  punkins !  if  yeou  don't  let  that 
air  boy  go,  I'll  jest  shin  aout  of  my  co't,  an'  I'll  sail  inter 
yeou  hotter'n  a  charge  of  grapeshot  aout  of  a  cannon ! 
That's  ther  kind  of  a  pansy  blossom  I  be,  b'jee!" 

At  this  the  man,  who  still  clung  to  the  boy,  broke  into 
derisive  laughter,  which  was  echoed  by  the  man  on  the 
veranda. 

"Go  fall  on  yourself !"  contemptuously  shot  back  the 
former.  "This  kid  sassed  me,  and  I'm  going  to  cuff 
his  ears  till  I  make  him  wish  he'd  kept  his  dirty  little 
mouth  shut!" 

He  raised  his  hand  to  strike  the  boy  once  more.  The 
urchin  dodged  and  held  his  hands  over  his  ears,  appeal- 
ing to  Ephraim  Gallup : 

"Don't  let  him  do  it !  He's  give  me  the  earache  now, 
an'  I  had  the  doctor  for  it  yesterday." 


Defending  the  Weak.  9 

The  lank  boy  lifted  a  hand  and  pointed  one  finger 
straight  at  the  man. 

"If  yeou  hit  that  little  feller  ag'in,"  he  slowly  said, 
"I'll  come  daown  there  an'  swat  you  once  ur  twice  so 
yeou'll  see  more  stars  than  any  'stronomer  ever  dis- 
kivered !" 

Biff! — the  blow  staggered  the  boy. 

Then  there  was  a  sudden  whirl,  as  Ephraim  seemed 
to  jerk  himself  out  of  his  coat,  the  sight  of  a  long,  lank 
form  sailing  through  the  air,  and  the  sharp  crack  of  a 
fist  that  was  driven  straight  from  the  shoulder  and  did 
not  miss  the  mark. 

The  movements  of  the  boy  from  Vermont  had  been 
so  swift  that  the  man  was  not  prepared  to  meet  the  at- 
tack, and  the  very  first  blow  knocked  him  down,  with 
the  barefooted  urchin,  to  whom  he  was  clinging,  piled 
upon  his  body. 

The  urchin  broke  away  at  once,  sprang  off,  and 
danced  a  wild  war  dance  of  joy,  shouting  with  delight : 

"Jimminy,  wasn't  that  a  corker!  Oh,  my,  my,  I 
never  seen  northin'  like  that!  He!  he!  he!" 

Dazed  and  astounded,  the  man  who  had  been  struck 
sat  up.  He  looked  at  Ephraim  Gallup,  who  was  stand- 
ing near,  coat  off,  fists  clinched,  ready  for  further  busi- 
ness, and  then  he  scrajmbled  to  his  feet,  uttering  fierce 
exclamations  of  rage. 

"Look  out!"  screamed  the  urchin,  in  sudden  alarm 
— "look  out  fer  him,  young  feller !  That's  Dad  Morse, 
the  pitcher  on  the  Fort  Worth  ball  team,  and  he's  a 
scrapper.  He'll  do  ye  up." 

"Wai,  let  him  do !"  came  from  between  the  set  teeth 


10  Defending  the  Weak. 

of  the  "Down  East"  lad.  "There  is  others  that  can  do 
a  little  somethin'." 

"Give  it  to  him,  Dad !"  cried  the  man  on  the  veranda, 
having  arisen  to  his  feet.  "Punch  the  packin'  out  of 
him!" 

"I  will !"  snarled  the  pitcher  of  the  Fort  Worths. 

He  came  at  Ephraim  savagely. 

For  a  moment  the  two  sparred,  and  Gallup  managed 
to  avoid  the  worst  blows,  although  he  received  one  that 
made  his  head  ring  and  cut  his  lip  on  the  inside. 

That  was  just  enough  to  fully  arouse  the  youth  from 
Vermont.  In  a  moment,  Dad  Morse,  scrapper  though 
he  was  by  reputation,  received  another  surprise. 

Ephraim  thumped  Morse  in  the  wind  and  then 
upper-cut  him  as  he  doubled  over  from  the  effect  of 
the  blow. 

But  he  did  not  stop  with  that,  for  he  felt  that  Morse 
was  a  bulldog  sort  of  chap,  who  would  fight  as  long 
as  he  could  stand,  so  he  hammered  the  pitcher  behind 
the  ear,  sending  him  sprawling  on  his  hands  and  knees. 

More  than  ever  astounded,  the  ball  player  called  to 
his  companion : 

"Hey,  O'Connor,  come  down  and  kill  the  fool !" 

O'Connor  came  running  down.  He  had  a  pimply 
face  and  a  general  tough  look. 

"I'll  t'ump  der  head  off  him !"  he  declared. 

When  Ephraim  turned  to  meet  his  new  antagonist 
Morse  got  on  his  feet,  and  the  boy  from  Vermont  was 
between  the  two.  They  had  him  in  a  bad  scrape,  and 
he  suddenly  realized  it. 


Defending  the  Weak.  II 

"Go&h !"  he  gasped,  paling  somewhat ;  "don't  I  wish 
I  was  to  hum  on  the  farm !" 

But  he  did  not  run,  or  try  to  get  away.  He  struck 
at  O'Connor,  who  dodged  with  the  skill  of  a  city  tough 
used  to  "scrapping,"  and  came  back  with  a  staggering 
body  blow. 

"Got — to — take — my — med'cine!"  gasped  Gallup. 
"I've  put  my  fut  inter  it  naow,  an'  I  can't  back  aout." 

Then  he  did  his  level  best  to  fight  both  of  them,  but 
was  getting  much  the  worst  of  it,  when  another  youth 
came  out  of  the  hotel. 

It  was  Frank  Merriwell. 

An  exclamation  of  astonishment  broke  from  his  lips, 
and  then,  like  a  flash,  he  was  bounding  down  the  steps. 

"Here,  here!"  his  voice  rang  out;  "what's  this  mean? 
Let  me  get  into  the  game!" 

Get  into  the  game  he  did  in  a  manner  that  aston- 
ished and  demoralized  Ephraim's  two  antagonists. 
His  first  blow  bowled  O'Connor  over  in  a  twinkling, 
and  then  he  gave  Morse  one  under  the  shoulder  blade 
that  made  that  worthy  think  he  had  been  struck  by  a 
pile  driver. 

By  this  time  the  encounter  had  attracted  general  at- 
tention, and  spectators  were  -hurrying  to  the  spot  from 
many  directions. 

A  tall  young  man  came  out  of  the  hotel  and  was  in 
the  midst  of  the  fighters  in  a  moment.  He  grasped 
Morse  by  the  collar,  and  barred  O'Connor  with  his 
arm,  as  the  pimply  youth  got  up  and  started  for  Frank, 
his  face  purple  with  rage. 

"Here,  what's  this?"  came  from  the  new  arrival. 


12  Defending  the  Weak. 

"How  do  you  fellows  dare  get  into  a  fight  just  before  a 
home  game  with  the  top-enders?  You  know  you  are 
the  battery  to-day,  and  we'll  be  out  of  it  if  anything 
happens  to  you.  I  warned  you  to  keep  out  of  trouble." 

The  speaker  was  Sam  Seekins,  manager  of  the  Fort 
Worth  ball  team,  of  the  Southern  League. 

Dad  Morse  was  the  star  pitcher  of  the  aggregation, 
and  O'Connor  was  the  only  man  who  could  "hold"  him 
satisfactorily. 

At  the  first  of  the  season  the  Fort  Worths  had  started 
out  like  pennant  winners,  but  of  late  they  had  been 
dropping  games  through  hard  luck,  and  the  night  be- 
fore our  story  opens  there  had  been  a  "shake  up,"  at 
which  Seekins  had  promised  further  grief  for  some  of 
the  drones  of  the  team  if  it  did  not  make  a  general 
brace. 

Out  of  the  three  regular  pitchers  on  the  team,  one 
had  a  stiff  arm  from  overwork,  and  another  had  hurt 
himself  in  trying  to  slide  home  with  the  winning  run  in 
the  last  game.  Morse  was  the  only  man  left  in  good 
condition,  and  Seekins  had  told  -him  he  must  take  the 
coming  game  from  the  Little  Rocks. 

Both  Morse  and  O'Connor  were  quarrelsome  and  in- 
fClined  to  get  into  trouble,  so  the  manager  had  warned 
them  to  "walk  straight"  till  after  the  game  was  over. 

Now  he  found  them  engaged  in  a  street  quarrel. 

Seekins  had  a  fiery  temper,  and  his  men  were  afraid 
of  him.  Just  now  it  was  plain  that  he  was  "mad." 

"Why,  I've  a  mind  to  fine  you  both!"  he  cried. 
"What  if  the  police  had  seen  you  and  arrested  you  both ! 
We'd  be  in  a  fine  scrape  this  afternoon !" 


Defending  the  Weak.  13 

The  men  looked  sullen,  but  said  nothing. 

At  this  moment  some  one  exclaimed: 

"Here  comes  an  officer  now !" 

Seeing  the  crowd  in  front  of  the  hotel,  a  policeman 
was  hastily  approaching. 

"Get  into  the  house,  and  keep  out  of  sight!"  hastily 
came  from  Seekins.  "Git,  I  tell  you!" 

Neither  Morse  nor  O'Connor  cared  to  be  arrested, 
and  so  they  made  haste  to  obey.  As  he  passed  Frank 
the  pimply-faced  catcher  gave  him  a  savage  look,  and 
muttered : 

"Wait  till  I  sees  you  after  der  game!  Oh,  I  won't 
do  a  t'ing  ter  you  ter-night !" 

Frank  smiled  serenely. 

"Perhaps  it  will  be  better  for  you  if  you  mind  your 
own  business,"  he  said.  "I  don't  want  to  fight  with 
you,  but  I  didn't  propose  to  stand  still  and  see  two  of 
you  jump  on  my  friend." 

"If  yer  stays  in  town  ye'll  fight  whedder  yer  wants 
to  or  not,"  growled  O'Connor,  as  he  passed  on. 

"Well,  I  shall  not  run  away,"  declared  Merriwell. 

When  the  officer  came  up,  Seekins  took  pains  to  as- 
sure him  that  nothing  more  than  a  "little  dispute"  had 
taken  place. 

The  policeman  dispersed  the  crowd. 

"We  seem  ter  git  inter  some  kind  of  a  ruction  ev*ry 
where  we  go,"  grinned  Ephraim,  as  he  put  on  his  coat. 
"I  don't  like  to  fight,  but  I  can't  stan'  it  to  see  a  great 
live  overgrowed  man  a-pickin'  on  a  little  kid,   and, 
b'gosh !  I  won't  do  it." 


14  Defending  the  Weak. 

His  words  won  him  some  applause  from  the  spec- 
tators, and  one  man  said : 

"That's  right.  Those  chaps  are  no  good  anyhow. 
Morse  is  a  great  pitcher,  but  he's  a  bully.  I  am  some- 
thing of  a  baseball  crank,  but  I'd  like  to  see  a  clean  ball 
team  in  this  town.  I'd  much  rather  not  see  any  than 
have  a  team  made  up  of  scrappers  and  toughs.  If  Sec- 
erns wants  to  keep  the  game  going  here  he'll  have  to 
get  rid  of  Morse." 

It  happened  that  Seekins  overheard  some  of  this  talk. 
His  face  grew  red,  and,  rather  hotly,  he  said : 

"You  may  think  it  is  dead  easy  for  a  manager  to  get 
just  the  kind  of  men  he  likes,  but  that's  because  you 
don't  know  anything  about  it.  If  the  Fort  Worths 
didn't  win  games  they  wouldn't  last,  and  Morse  has 
won  more  games  for  us  than  all  our  other  pitchers  com- 
bined. It  sounds  fine  to  talk  about  clean  ball  players, 
but  they  are  very  nearly  as  scarce  as  hen's  teeth.  Look 
at  the  Austins.  The  town  raised  a  howl  about  dirty 
ball  players  last  season,  and  this  year  they  have  a  lot  of 
college  chaps  on  their  team.  Where  are  they?  They 
are  tail-enders  and  tail-enders  they  will  remain  till  they 
fire  the  college  chaps.  College  ball  is  not  professional 
ball,  and  a  team  made  up  of  college  men  doesn't  stand  a 
show  with  a  professional  team." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  smiled  Frank.  "There  are 
various  opinions  about  that,  sir.  I  have  a  little  team  of 
my  own,  made  up  mostly  of  college  players,  and  I 
wouldn't  mind  putting  it  up  against  anything  in  the 
Southern  League." 

Seekins  laughed  disdainfully. 


Defending  the  Weak.  15 

"You  are  talking  through  your  hat.  Your  little 
team  wouldn't  score.  It  would  be  a  farce." 

"Perhaps  so,  but  my  team  wouldn't  play  the  leading 
comedy  role.  There  is  a  surprise  awaiting  you  any 
time  you  feel  like  tackling  us." 

"We  haven't  time  to  'bother  with  you/' 

Then  Seekins,  in  anything  but  a  pleasant  mood,  fol- 
lowed his  troublesome  battery  into  the  hotel. 

Frank  looked  around  for  Ephraim,  and  saw  him  talk- 
ing with  the  barefooted  urchin  -he  had  defended. 

"Gal  wants  ter  see  me?"  exclaimed  the  Vermonter, 
bashfully.  "Yeou  don't  say!" 

"Yes,  I  do,"  assured  the  boy,  ducking  his  head  sev- 
eral times. 

"What  in  thutteration  does  she  want  of  me?" 

"Wants  to  thank  ye." 

"Hey?     Thank  me?     Whut  fer?" 

"Stoppin'  that  feller  from  shakin'  me  out." 

"Wai,  that's  darned  funny!  Oh,  gosh!  I  don't 
want  to  be  thanked !  Tell  her  I'm  much  obleeged,  an' 
let  it  go  at  that." 

The  country  lad  was  growing  more  and  more  con- 
fused and  alarmed,  and  he  looked  as  if  he  contemplated 
taking  to  his  heels. 

The  urchin  was  persistent. 

"She's  my  sister,"  he  said,  "an'  she's  a  bully  gal. 
She  was  awful  glad  you  went  for  that  feller,  for  he  tried 
to  make  a  mash  on  her  last  night,  and  near  scared  her 
to  death.  She'll  feel  bad  if  you  don't  come  to  see  her." 

"Where  is  she?" 


1 6  Defending  the  Weak. 

"In  the  millinery  store  'crost  the  street  See  her  over 
there  at  the  door?" 

The  boy  pointed  her  out 

"Jeeroosalem !"  gasped  Ephraim.  "A  millunary 
shop!  An'  there  must  be  other  female  gals  in  there! 
I'd  ruther  face  a  rigimint  of  soldiers!  I  can't  do  it! 
Jest  tell  her  that  you  saw  me,  but "  | 

"Oh,  go  ahead,  Ephraim!"  laughed  Frank.  "How 
do  you  expect  ever  to  cut  any  ice  with  the  girls  if  you 
are  so  bashful." 

"Cut  ice !"  gurgled  the  Vermonter,  wiping  the  perspi- 
ration from  his  face  with  the  back  of  his  hand.  "I  feel 
'zif  I'd  bin  shovelin'  coal  inter  a  furnace!  I  can't  go 
over  there,  Frank!" 

"If  you  don't  she'll  think  you  a  chump." 

Ephraim  groaned. 

"Come  over  with  me!"  he  exclaimed,  eagerly.  "Yeou 
know  haow  to  git  along  with  the  gals,  an'  yeou  kin  help 
me  aout." 

"All  right,"  nodded  Merry.     "Come  ahead." 

The  delighted  urchin  led  the  way  across  the  street, 
and  Frank  and  Ephraim  followed.  Frank  took  the 
Vermonter's  arm  to  keep  him  from  bolting,  and  he  could 
feel  Ephraim  trembling. 

"Gosh!"  whispered  Ephraim.  "Don't  I  wish  I  was 
to  hum  on  the  farm !" 

The  boy  opened  the  door  for  them  to  enter  the  store, 
and  Frank  pushed  Ephraim  in  ahead.  In  his  confus- 
ion, the  country  lad  caught  the  toe  of  his  right  foot  on 
his  left  heel  and  nearly  fell  over  himself. 

When  he  straightened  up  he  found  himself  face  to 


Defending  the  Weak.  17 

face  with  a  very  pretty  girl,  who  was  smiling,  despite 
her  efforts  to  repress  -her  merriment 

"  'Scuse  me!"  exclaimed  Ephraim,  as  he  snatched  off 
his  cap.  "My  legs  are  alwus  gittin'  mixed  up  with  each 
other  an'  tryin'  to  trip  me  daown.  I  oughter  have  'em 
cut  daown  to  regerlation  length." 

This  pleased  the  barefooted  lad,  who  shouted : 

"His  legs  may  be  long,  but  he's  all  right,  sis !  He's 
a  corker,  an'  he  didn't  do  a  thing  to  Morse !" 

In  a  frank,  unaffected  way,  the  girl  offered  her  hand 
to  the  boy  from  Vermont. 

"I  saw  you  just  as  you  went  to  my  brother's  aid,"  she 
said,  and  her  voice  was  pleasant  and  musical.  "Tommy 
is  forever  getting  into  scrapes.  That  man  spoke  to  me 
last  night,  and  frightened  me.  I  ran  away  from  him, 
and  told  Tommy." 

•"An'  I  laid  fer  him/'  said  the  boy.  "When  I  saw 
him  come  out  of  the  hotel  I  jes'  told  him  that  he  was  a 
big  stiff.  Then,  when  I  wasn't  lookin'  he  jumped  down 
an'  caught  me." 

Ephraim  shook  the  girl's  hand,  -his  face  being  beet- 
red,  while  he  stammered  some  words. 

"You  were  very  good  to  stand  up  for  Tommy,"  said 
the  girl ;  "but  I  was  afraid  you  would  get  the  worst  of  it 
when  I  saw  both  of  those  men  upon  you.  I  was  so 
glad  when  the  other  gentleman  came  out  and  helped 
you." 

She  smiled  on  Frank,  w-ho  bowed  in  his  most  grace- 
ful manner,  declaring: 

"I  am  sure  neither  Mr.  Gallup  nor  myself  expected 
to  be  repaid  in  this  manner  for  what  we  did.'* 


i8  Defending  the  Weak. 

Behind  the  counter  was  another  girl,  who  was  watch- 
ing Frank  with  admiring  eyes.  She  was  prettier  than 
the  one  who  had  expressed  her  thanks,  and  now  she 
found  an  opportunity  to  say  something : 

"Miss  Raymond  and  I  were  both  dreadfully  fright- 
ened when  we  saw  the  fight,  and  we  were  so  glad  when 
you  came  out  and  helped  your  friend.  I  think  those 
two  men  perfectly  horrid,  and  I  have  been  staying  away 
from  the  ball  games  lately  just  because  I  dislike  them  so 
much.  It's  been  an  awful  sacrifice,  too,  for  I  just  do 
love  a  real  good  game  of  ball." 

"In  that  case,  perhaps  we  may  have  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you  and  Miss  Raymond  at  the  game  this  after- 
noon," suggested  Frank. 

"Are  you  going?" 

"Yes.  We  have  stopped  over  here  on  purpose  to  at- 
tend the  game.  There  are  nine  in  our  party,  and  we 
are  all  going." 

"Oh,  dear!"  sighed  the  girl  behind  the  counter. 
"I'm  afraid  Miss  Walker  won't  let  us  both  go  at  once. 
I'd  just  love  to  go  this  afternoon !" 

As  she  said  this  she  gave  Frank  a  most  expressive 
and  bewitching  look. 

"We'll  try  to  get  out,  won't  we,  Ida?"  said  the  boy's 
sister. 

"We'll  do  our  best  to,  Eva,"  laughed  the  other;  "but 
I'm  awfully  afraid  we'll  fail." 

"Gosh !"  put  in  Ephraim ;  "I  hope  ye  won't.  I'd  like 
to  see  ye  ag'in.  We've  been  daown  in  Arizony  and 
New  Mexico,  an'  it  seems  kainder  good  to  git  into  a 


Defending  the  Weak.  19 

country  where  there's  lots  of  pritty  gals.  By  gum! 
I  don't  believe  I  ever  saw  so  menny  pritty  gals  as  there 
is  daown  here  in  Texas.  I  don't  b'lieve  there's  any 
hombly  ones." 

"That  is  complimentary,"  smiled  Eva ;  "but  of  course 
you  must  have  noticed  degrees  of  beauty  among  the 
Texas  girls  ?" 

"Never  noticed  it  so  much  as  I  have  durin'  the  last 
three  minutes,"  said  the  country  lad.  "Before  that  I 
thought  they  all  was  pritty,  but  I've  diskivered  there's 
two  who  are  prettier,  b'jee!" 

Frank  felt  like  clapping  Ephraim  on  the  back,  for  the 
awkward  lad  had  said  this  in  such  an  honest  way  that 
the  girls  could  not  help  being  flattered. 

And  it  became  apparent  in  a  moment  that  the  Ver- 
monter  had  made  a  hit.  The  girls  showed  this. 

Frank  and  Ephraim  did  not  remain  long  in  the  store, 
but  they  stayed  long  enough  to  find  out  that  the  name 
of  the  barefooted  boy's  sister  was  Eva  Raymond,  and 
the  other  girl's  name  was  Ida  Day.  When  they  left  the 
girls  promised  again  to  get  out  that  afternoon  and  at- 
tend the  bail  game,  if  possible. 

"Wai,  darn  my  pertaturs!"  exploded  Ephraim,  as 
they  walked  over  toward  the  -hotel;  "I  never  struck 
northin'  like  that!  Them  gals  is  both  peaches;  but 
Eva,  she's  jest  a  leetle  the  peachiest." 

"You  have  caught  on  with  her,  old  man,"  said 
Frank;  "and  she  seems  like  a  splendid  girl." 

"An'  yeou've  made  a  hit  with  t'other  one.     B'gosh! 


ao  Defending  the  Weak. 

I'll  jest  brace  right  up  to  Eva  Raymond.  Won't  the* 
fellers  stare  when  they  see  me!  It  duz  seem  kainder 
funny  to  think  of  me  makin'  a  mash.  Ho !  ho !  h — o ! 
Darned  ef  this  ain't  more  fun  than  hoein'  corn  on  ther 
farm!" 


CHAPTER  H. 

BASEBALL     TALK. 

As  Frank  had  said,  there  were  nine  in  the  party,  and 
before  going  further  it  may  be  as  well  to  introduce 
them,  individually  and  collectively. 

Frank  Merriwell,  our  hero,  was  the  leader,  tall,  hand- 
some and  a  lover  of  all  sorts  of  manly  sports.  Frank 
was  a  boy  who  never  failed  in  anything  he  undertook 
and  was  a  prime  favorite  with  his  friends. 

Besides  Frank  there  were  Harry  Rattleton,  his  room- 
mate at  Yale  College,  a  youth  full  of  fun;  Jack  Dia- 
mond, a  boy  from  Virginia ;  big  and  lazy  Bruce  Brown- 
ing; Bart  Hodge,  a  chum  of  many  years'  standing; 
Hans  Dunnerwust,  a  comical  Dutch  lad;  Barney  Mul- 
loy,  a  clever  Irish  youth;  Ephraim  Gallup,  already  in- 
troduced, and  Toots,  a  colored  boy,  who,  when  at  home, 
was  attached  to  the  Merriwell  household. 

Some  time  before  five  of  the  boys,  including  Frank, 
had  started  on  a  bicycle  tour  from  New  York  to  San 
Francisco.  After  many  adventures  the  tour  was 
brought  to  a  triumphant  close,  and  then  the  boys,  along 
with  the  others,  whom  they  had  met  out  West,  started 
on  the  return  to  the  East. 

It  was  Frank's  idea  to  form  them  into  what  was 
called  the  "Yale  Combine."  Nine  made  a  good  ball 
team,  and  as  nearly  all  the  boys  were  athletes,  they 


22  Baseball  Talk. 

started  in  for  sport  on  the  way  back,  stopping  off  at 
any  place  that  promised  fun  and  excitement. 

While  in  the  extreme  West  they  had  been  accom- 
panied by  Inza  Burrage,  a  young  lady  who  was  very 
dear  to  Frank's  heart,  and  her  aunt,  Miss  Gale,  but  the 
ladies  had  left  them  behind,  being  unwilling  to  lose  as 
much  time  as  the  boys  wished  to  spend  in  recreation. 

After  leaving  the  millinery  store,  Frank  and  Eph- 
raim  directed  their  steps  to  the  hotel.  In  the  baggage- 
room  they  found  Toots  busily  at  work  cleaning  up  the 
nine  bicycles  that  belonged  to  the  party,  while  Bruce 
Browning,  who  was  on  hand  to  oversee  the  job,  sat 
in  the  elevated  chair  of  the  bootblack,  fast  asleep. 

"Bet  yo'  I's  gwan  teh  hab  mah  pay  fo'  dis  job!"  the 
colored  boy  was  muttering.  "Don'  yo'  mek  no  mis- 
take 'bout  dat.  Dem  lazy  boys  don'  lek  teh  clean  bi- 
suckles,  but  dey  allus  wants  'em  teh  shine  lek  new.  An' 
dey  finks  I  ain't  gwan  ter  do  de  job  right  if  I  don'  nab' 
a  boss  ober  me.  Dar — dar  am  de  boss!"  waving  his 
hand  toward  Bruce,  who  was  snoring  in  a  fitful  man- 
ner. "Yah!  yah!  yah!  Ain't  dat  chile  a  sleepin* 
beauty !" 

As  Frank  and  Ephraim  stopped  in  the  open  doorway, 
Browning  began  to  mutter  in  his  sleep: 

"Strawberry  shortcake — I  smell  strawberry  short- 
cake. Yum !  yum !  I  see  it — I  want  it — I  will  have '' 

Then  he  toppled  over  and  fell  out  of  the  chair,  strik- 
ing upon  Toots  and  flattening  the  colored  boy  out  upon 
the  floor,  while  the  bicycle  the  darky  had  been  at  work 
upon  fell  over  upon  them  both. 

"Yah!"  howled  the  frightened  colored  lad.     "Dis 


Baseball  Talk.  23 

chile  ain't  no  strawberry  shortcake!  Wat  yo'  tryin' 
tehdo!" 

Bruce,  awakened  in  this  startling  manner,  fancied 
everything  was  falling  down  about  his  ears. 

"It's  an  earthquake!"  he  shouted  "We'll  be  buried 
in  the  ruins !  Help !  help !" 

Frank  and  Ephraim  laughed  heartily  at  the  spectacle. 

Fearing  he  would  be  crushed  flat,  Toots  succeeded 
in  placing  one  foot  against  Browning's  broad  stomach, 
and  then  kicked  Bruce  and  the  bicycle  into  the  air. 

The  big  fellow  came  down  with  a  thud  on  the  floor, 
but  the  bicycle  turned  over  and  cracked  the  darky  on 
the  head  as  it  once  more  alighted  upon  him. 

"Wow!"  howled  Toots.  "G'way,  dar.  What  yo' 
tryin'  teh  do?" 

Frank  came  in  and  pulled  the  wheel  off  the  colored 
boy,  fearing  the  machine  might  be  injured. 

Browning  sat  up,  looking  dazed  and  foolish. 

"It  seems  to  me  that  something  has  happened,"  he 
said,  bewildered. 

"Dat's  so,"  nodded  Toots,  sitting  up  and  facing 
Bruce. 

It  took  some  time  to  make  clear  to  Bruce  just  what 
had  happened,  and,  when  he  understood  it,  he  was  thor- 
oughly disgusted. 

"All  the  other  fellows  are  taking  a  snooze  in  their 
rooms,  while  I  am  down  here  working,"  he  said.  "Oh, 
that's  always  the  way !  I  have  to  do  all  the  work." 

Then  Frank  told  of  the  encounter  in  front  of  the 
hotel  and  of  the  two  girls  in  the  millinery  store. 

"That's  it!"  grunted  Bruce.     "You  have  all  the  fun 


24  Baseball  Talk. 

fighting  and  making  mashes,  while  I  have  to  work  like 
a  dog  bossing  this  colored  rascal." 

"Yah!  yah!"  laughed  Toots.  "It's  piles  cb  bossin' 
yo'  was  doin!  Why,  Mistah  Brownin',  yo'  fell  asleep 
jes'  ez  soon  as  yo'  sot  do'n  in  dat  chair." 

At  this  moment  Sam  Seekins,  the  manager  of  the 
Fort  Worth  ball  team,  came  into  the  room  on  his  way 
through.  He  paused  when  he  saw  Frank. 

"I  have  obtained  the  particulars  concerning  that  little 
affair  in  front  of  the  hotel,"  he  said,  "and  I  want  to 
apologize  for  my  men.  If  Morse  was  not  such  a  crack- 
ajack pitcher  I  wouldn't  keep  him  an  hour.  He  is  for- 
ever bullying  somebody  and  getting  into  trouble,  while 
O'Connor  is  a  good  mate  for  him.  It's  no  cinch  man- 
aging a  ball  team,  anyway." 

"That's  right,"  smiled  Frank.  "The  manager  of  a 
team  is  sure  to  get  more  kicks  than  anything  else." 

"Sure.  I  believe  you  said  that  you  are  the  manager 
of  some  sort  of  a  team  ?" 

"Oh,  that  is  different.  It  is  a  college  combination, 
and  we  take  an  interest  in  athletics  of  all  sorts.  We 
do  not  make  baseball  a  feature." 

"Still  you  play  some?" 

"Yes." 

"What  do  you  do?" 

"Pitch." 

"So  ?  And  you  really  think  you  could  play  ball  with 
a  professional  team?  Why,  my  dear  young  fellow,  my 
men  would  bat  your  eye  out  in  one  inning." 

Frank  smiled  as  if  he  had  received  a  compliment. 


Baseball  Talk.  25 

<rYbu  mean  you  think  they  could.  You  don't  know 
anything  about  my  pitching." 

"What  team  did  you  ever  pitch  for?" 

"I  pitched  for  Yale  last  season," 

At  this  Seekins  pricked  up  his  ears  a  bit 

"For  the  regular  'Varsity  team  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  what's  your  name?" 

"Merriwell." 

"Merriwell  ?  It  seems  to  me  I  noticed  your  work  in 
the  papers.  You  see,  I  keep  watch  of  all  the  games  so 
that  I  may  know  who  the  men  are  that  are  coming  up. 
I  think  I  remember  that  you  pitched  the  deciding  game 
of  the  series  between  Yale  and  Harvard." 

"I  did." 

"And  won  it?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  it  is  quite  likely  you  are  all  right  for  college 
work,  but  you  know  I  claim  there  is  a  great  difference 
between  college  ball  playing  and  professional  ball  play- 
ing." 

"After  all,  it  is  the  difference  between  clean  ball  play- 
ing and  dirty  ball  playing." 

Seekins  did  not  seem  to  like  this,  but,  as  if  forced  to 
do  so,  he  slowly  admitted : 

"Sometimes  that  is  the  case,  but  what  I  mean  is  that 
college  players  have  not  the  nerve  and  stamina  to  hold 
their  own  with  professionals.  They  do  not  know  how 
to  work  the  game  for  all  there  is  in  it,  and  get  the  ad- 
vantage of  every  point.  Compared  with  professionals, 


26  Baseball  Talk. 

they  are  like  a  young  man  just  starting  out  in  life  com- 
pared with  a  veteran  successful  business  man," 

"You  mean  that  they  lack  experience." 

"That  is  the  matter  with  them  usually." 

"I  don't  say  you  are  wrong,  but  you  know  some  col- 
lege teams  play  pretty  fast  ball.  I  have  some  good  men 
in  my  combine.  Hodge,  who  catches,  is  one  of  the  best 
backstops  I  know.  He  isn't  a  Yale  man,  but  thinks  of 
entering  Yale,  Browning,  this  gentleman  here,  is  my 
first  baseman,  and  he  is  a  corker  when  he  can  keep 
awake.  Diamond,  a  Yale  man,  covers  second  for  me, 
and  he  is  fast.  Rattleton,  another  Yale  man,  holds 
down  third  bag,  and  I  have  seen  him  do  some  pretty 
work.  My  short  is  an  Irish  lad  who  can  give  some  of 
your  professionals  points.  The  outfield  is  not  so  fast, 
and  so,  much  depends  upon  me.  If  I  can  keep  them 
from  having  much  work  to  do,  we  are  all  right." 

Seekins  looked  interested. 

"I  should  say  you  have  a  good  team  to  play  with 
some  of  the  local  nines  through  the  country,"  he  ob- 
served; "but  don't  think  you  can  cut  much  ice  with 
professionals." 

"That's  not  settled,"  said  Frank,  still  calm  and  se- 
rene. "If  we  had  a  chance  against  your  Fort  Worth 
team,  we'd  come  pretty  near  making  it  hustle." 

"Not  with  a  weak  outfield,  for  my  men  are  sluggers, 
and  you  would  need  a  strong  outfield  to  support  you. 
I  should  be  sorry  for  you  when  they  jumped  on  you  if 
you  had  a  weak  outfield  behind  you." 

Frank  smiled. 


Baseball  Talk.  27 

"I  don't  suppose  it  occurs  to  you  that,  possibly,  they 
might  not  jump  very  -hard?" 

"Hardly.  It  would  take  more  than  a  college  pitcher 
to  fool  them. 

Ephraim  Gallup  had  remained  quiet  as  long  as  he 
could. 

"Gol  darn  it!"  he  shouted.  "I'll  bet  a  kaow  you'd 
make  monkeys  of  um,  Frank !  I'd  like  ter  see  yeou  go 
up  against  um,  b'gosh!" 

At  this  moment  a  messenger  boy  appeared  at  the  door 
and  called : 

"Message  for  you,  Mr.  Seekins." 

The  manager  of  the  Fort  Worths  took  the  envelope 
from  the  boy,  signed  the  book  and  then  lost  no  time  in 
finding  out  what  the  envelope  contained. 

An  exclamation  of  mingled  surprise,  anger  and  dis- 
may broke  from  his  lips. 

"Well,  this  is  a  great  go!"  he  cried. 

Then,  after  some  hesitation,  while  the  boy  waited  to 
see  if  there  was  an  answer,  Seekins  passed  the  message 
to  Frank,  saying,  guardedly : 

"If  that's  straight,  you  may  have  a  chance  to  play  an 
exhibition  game  with  us  this  afternoon." 


CHAPTER  III. 

AN    AGREEMENT. 

"Trouble  in  team.  Short  of  funds.  Can't  reach 
Fort  Worth  to-day.  Game  off. 

"PAUL  KENNA, 
"Manager  Little  Rock  B.  B.  C." 

That  was  the  message  Sam  Seekins  permitted  Frank 
Merriwell  to  read. 

"Confound  the  luck !"  growled  Seekins.  "We  have 
advertised  this  game  in  great  shape,  claiming  the  team 
is  strengthened,  and  Morse  will  pitch.  That's  bound  to 
draw  a  big  crowd,  and  here  the  Little  Rocks  -have 
slipped  up  on  us.  If  we  miss  playing  this  game,  Fort 
Worth  is  likely  to  become  disgusted  and  throw  up  the 
sponge.  I  tell  you  that's  what  I  call  beastly  hard 
luck!" 

"We  will  give  you  a  game,"  said  Frank,  quietly. 

"Oh,  that  wouldn't  satisfy  the  crowd.  It  would  be 
too  tame." 

"It  might  not." 

"It  would,  and  still  we  need  the  gate  money.  It 
will  break  my  heart  to  cough  up  if  a  good  crowd  turns 
out  and  pays  admission." 

"I  will  guarantee  to  give  you  a  -hot  game,  or  take  no 
per  cent,  of  the  gate  money." 

"You  have  lots  of  confidence,  but  confidence  is  not 
ball  playing." 


An  Agreement.  29 

"Confound  it !"  exclaimed  Frank,  growing  desperate. 
"I'll  wager  you  a  hundred  dollars  that  we  beat  you!" 

"Oh,  say,  what  a  bluff!"  laughed  Seekins,  uneasily, 
seeming  to  be  so  troubled  over  the  message  that  he  did 
not  fully  heed  Frank's  words. 

"If  you  think  it  a  bluff,  take  a  look  at  this  long 
green,"  came  from  Merriwell's  lips,  as  he  produced  a 
roll  of  bills.  "I  will  shove  up  my  hundred  in  the  hands 
of  the  hotel  proprietor,  and  I  dare  you  to  cover  it." 

This  was  quite  enough  to  convince  Seekins  that  the 
boy  was  in  earnest.  He  looked  at  Frank  intently,  and 
then  said : 

"I  suppose  you  are  expecting  your  share  of  the  gate 
money  to  make  you  square  if  you  lose?" 

"Not  on  your  life !  I  am  ready  to  play  you  for  one 
hundred  dollars,  the  winning  team  to  take  all  the  gate 
money." 

"Eh  ?"  grunted  the  man,  lifting  his  eyebrows,  "You 
must  have  money  to  burn !" 

"I  have  money  to  back  any  talk  I  make." 

"Well,  I  don't  propose  giving  up  the  Little  Rocks 
yet.  They  might  get  here  on  one  of  the  afternoon 

trains.  If  they  do  not  come Well,  I  will  see  you 

later." 

Then  he  hastily  wrote  a  message  on  a  sheet  of  paper 
taken  from  his  pocket.  It  was  as  follows : 

"PAUL  KENNA,  MANAGER  LITTLE  ROCK  B.  B.  C. : 

"Must  play  here  at  three  P.  M.,  or  game  will  'be  for- 
feited to  Fort  Worth.  Shall  expect  you. 

"SAM    SEEKINS, 
"Manager  Fort  Worth  B.  B.  Club." 


30  An  Agreement. 

"That  will  bring  him  if  he  can  raise  the  funds  to 
reach  Fort  Worth,"  said  Seekins,  as  he  folded  the  mes- 
sage and  gave  it  to  the  boy.  "Here,  young  fellow, 
here's  a  quarter  for  you,  and  you  are  to  keep  your 
mouth  shut.  Understand.  I  don't  want  it  to  get  out 
that  there  is  a  chance  of  the  Little  Rocks  failing  to  be 
on  hand." 

"I  know  my  business,"  replied  the  boy,  as  he  pocketed 
the  quarter.  "If  I  didn't  keep  my  mouth  shut,  I 
couldn't  hold  my  job." 

Then  he  slipped  away  in  a  hurry. 

Frank  did  not  mean  to  give  up  the  chance  of  getting 
a  game  with  the  Fort  Worths. 

"You'll  be  in  a  bad  hole  if  the  team  doesn't  come," 
he  said.  "What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Well,  as  a  last  resort,  we  may  have  to  play  your 
team." 

"Will  you  play  us  for  a  hundred  and  the  gate 
money?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  to  rob  you,  my  boy,  so  we  won't 
play  for  the  hundred ;  but  if  you  stick  to  it,  the  winning 
team  shall  take  all  the  gate  money." 

"It's  a  go!" 

"Then,  if  we  play,  that  is  settled." 

"Not  without  a  written  agreement.  It  is  best  to 
have  these  little  matters  nailed  down  in  black  and 
white." 

"Ho !"  laughed  Seekins ;  "you  needn't  let  that  worry 
you.  You  will  never  have  a  show  to  get  your  fingers 
on  a  dollar  of  the  money." 


An  Agreement.  31 

"I'll  have  a  show  if  we  make  the  written  agreement, 
and  I  shall  not  play  otherwise." 

"Oh,  well,  I'll  make  it;  but  you  won't  have  any  bet- 
ter show  after  it  is  made.  There  is  plenty  of  time  after 
we  find  the  Little  Rocks  will  not  get  here." 

"Not  at  all.  If  we  are  going  to  make  any  agree- 
ment, let's  make  it  now.  That  is  the  best  way." 

"How  can  we  as  long  as  we  do  not  know  whether 
we  will  play  or  not?" 

"It  seems  pretty  sure  that  we'll  play,  unless  you  back 
out" 

"Back  out !     Well,  that  is  rich !     Ha !  ha !  ha !" 

"We  can  make  an  agreement  like  this,"  said  Frank. 
"We  will  agree  to  play  for  the  entire  gate  money  in 
case  the  Little  Rocks  do  not  appear  on  the  field  by  five 
minutes  past  three." 

"Oh,  yes,  we  can  arrange  it  that  way." 

"Then  come  on.  We'll  go  into  the  office  and  fix  it 
up.  All  I  am  sorry  about  is  that  you  won't  put  up  a 
hundred.  That  would  make  it  all  the  more  interest- 
ing." 

As  they  went  out,  Frank  leading,  Seekins  following, 
and  Browning  slouching  along  behind,  Toots  held  up 
both  hands,  exclaiming : 

"Land  ob  wartermillions !  who  ebber  seen  de  beat  ob 
dat!  Marser  Frank  am  de  gre'tes'  spo't  I  ebber  saw. 
He'd  jes'  lek  teh  play  ball  'gainst  de  Bustums." 

Out  in  the  office  Frank  quickly  drew  up  an  agree- 
ment, which  he  offered  Seekins  to  sign,  having  first 
dashed  his  name  at  the  bottom  in  bold,  black  letters. 


32  An  Agreement. 

Seekins  read  the  agreement  over,  and  saw  that  it  was 
all  straight.  If  the  Little  Rocks  appeared  on  the  Fort 
Worth  ground  that  afternoon  before  three  innings  had 
been  played  between  the  Fort  Worths  and  Merri well's 
team  the  latter  was  to  quit  and  let  the  rgular  game  be- 
tween the  league  clubs  go  on. 

"That's  all  right,"  nodded  Seekins,  noting  with  sat- 
isfaction that  Frank  showed  no  desire  to  back  down  and 
ask  for  a  per  cent,  of  the  gate  money,  but  had  stated  in 
the  agreement  that  the  winning  club  was  to  have  all  the 
money  taken  at  the  door.  "I'll  sign  that." 

He  placed  his  name  beneath  Frank's. 

"Now,"  said  Merry,  "we  want  two  witnesses." 

"Oh,  what's  the  need  of  all  this  form?" 

"I  mean  to  fix  that  gate  money,  and  I  want  to  fix  it 
so  you  can't  squeal,"  said  Merriwell,  with  a  cool  smile. 

The  manager  of  the  Fort  Worths  flushed. 

"Don't  worry  about  hearing  me  squeal !"  he  quickly 
exclaimed.  "I  am  not  that  kind,  and,  besides,  I  shall 
have  no  occasion  for  it.  If  we  play  you,  my  young 
friend  from  Yale,  you  will  wear  a  cap  to-night  that  at 
present  would  be  several  sizes  too  small  for  you.  Hitch 
on  your  witnesses." 

Frank  asked  the  clerk  to  put  his  name  on  the  paper 
as  a  witness,  which  that  important  worthy  conde- 
scended to  do.  Browning  was  the  other  witness,  and 
the  matter  was  settled. 

"Well,  that  was  a  slick  piece  of  work,  old  man!" 
laughed  Browning,  in  his  lazy  manner,  when  Sam 
Seekins  had  departed.  "I  believe  we'll  get  a  game  out 


An  Agreement.  3> 

of  those  fellows  all  right ;  but  you  did  have  a  nerve  to 
offer  to  bet  a  hundred  on  the  game.  We  can  afford  to 
get  along  without  the  gate  money." 

"Is  that  the  way  you  look  at  it?"  exclaimed  Frank, 
in  mild  surprise.  "Well,  we  don't  propose  to  get  along 
without  the  gate  money.  We're  going  to  have  it." 

"Eh!"  grunted  Bruce.  "Why,  you  don't  expect  to 
beat  a  regular  professional  team  like  the  Fort  Worths  ?'r 

"Don't  I?     Well!" 

"But  we  can't  do  it,  Frank,  and  you  know  it." 

"I  don't  know  anything  of  the  sort.  We  can  make 
a  big  bluff  at  it,  and  we  may  give  them  the  biggest  sur- 
prise party  they  ever  struck." 

"I  admire  your  courage,"  yawned  Browning ;  "but  I 
must  say  that,  for  once,  your  judgment  is  away  off. 
We  have  done  no  playing  together,  and " 

"We  are  all  right,  although  we  lack  team  work. 
You  know  you  were  a  smasher  with  the  bat  when  you 
used  to  play,  and  you  can  gather  in  anything  that  comes 
within  four  rods  of  first.  All  you'll  have  to  do  is  to 
wake  up  and  get  into  gear.  You  have  seen  me  pitch. " 

"Yes,"  nodded  Browning,  "you  are  a  pitcher.  Merry, 
but  a  pitcher  can't  win  the  entire  game.  Where  ic 
your  catcher?" 

"Hodge  will  catch  me." 

"Is  he  any  good?" 

"Is  he?  Well,  wait  and  see!  I'll  go  you  something 
he  is  Yale's  backstop  before  he  has  been  in  college  more 
than  one  season." 

"Can  he  throw?" 


34  An  Agreement. 

"Like  a  bullet" 

"Bat?" 

"Lake  a  fiend — at  times.  He  is  a  little  erratic,  but 
when  he  gets  a  streak  of  batting  it  seems  that  nothing 
will  stop  him." 

"I  hope  he'll  have  one  of  those  streaks  to-day,  but 
Dad  Morse  is  a  bird.  You  know  he  is  left-handed,  and 
he  can  make  the  ball  look  small  as  a  pea  when  it  goes 
over  the  plate.  The  man  is  too  fast  for  this  league, 
and  he  would  be  in  one  of  the  bigger  leagues  if  it 
wasn't  for  his  quarrelsomeness  and  unreliability." 

"Well,  I  don't  think  he  will  scare  many  of  our  crowd. 
We  can  bat  him  if  we  are  not  afraid  of  him.  We  must 
go  right  at  him,  and  get  him  going  at  the  start." 

"It's  well  enough  to  talk  about  that,  but  you  know 
Diamond  is  not  a  batter,  though  he  does  cover  second 
in  great  shape.  It  was  his  weak  batting  that  kept  him 
off  the  Yale  team." 

"I  know  he  is  no  great  batter,  but  Rattleton  can  do 
a  fairly  good  job  with  the  stick,  and  Barney  is  a  won- 
der. That  Irishman  will  surprise  Mr.  Morse." 

"Well,  what's  the  use  to  play  with  such  an  outfield  as 
we  have?" 

"Our  outfield  might  be  stronger."  admitted  Frank ; 
"but  the  only  very  weak  spot  will  be  in  right,  the  least 
important  field,  which  Dunnerwust  will  cover.  Gallup 
can  gather  in  flies  to  beat  the  band,  and  he  throws  like 
Sockalexis,  the  Indian  ball  player.  Toots  is  a  sure 
catch  and  a  good  runner,  but  a  poor  thrower.  Take 
them  all  together,  they  make  an  aggregation  that's  not 


An  Agreement.  35 

to  be  sneezed  at.  We  may  surprise  Fort  Worth  this 
afternoon/' 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Browning,  doubtingly;  "but  I'm 
glad  you  didn't  put  up  that  hundred." 

"Oh,  ye  of  little  faith!"  muttered  Frank,  as  he 
walked  away. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FRANK   USES   A    WHIP. 

It  was  near  noon,  and,  as  Frank  started  to  ascend 
the  stairs  of  his  room,  Ephraim  came  rushing  up  to 
him  in  great  excitement. 

"Hold  on!"  panted  the  boy  from  Vermont.  "I've 
got  somethin'  ter  tell  ye!  It's  gol  darned  'portant, 
too!" 

Frank  stopped. 

"Why,  you  are  in  a  perfect  sweat,  Ephraim,"  he  said. 

"Sweat!"  exclaimed  the  Yankee  lad.  "Who 
wouldn't  sweat !  It's  'nuff  ter  make  a  man  b'ile!" 

"What  is  it?  I  didn't  think  it  was  so  unusually  hot 
to-day." 

"Hot!  Jimminy  whiskers!  it's  whut  I've  heerd 
that's  made  me  hot." 

"What  was  it?" 

Ephraim  looked  around  to  make  sure  they  were  alone, 
and  then  hastily  said : 

"I've  heerd  them  two  darned  sarnips  talkin'  'bout 
havin'  fun  with  them  gals,  b'gosh !" 

"What  two  'darned  sarnips'  and  what  'gals'  ?" 

"Why,  Morse  an'  Pimple  Face.  Them's  the  ones  I 
mean." 

"Who  are  the  girls?" 

"Them  same  gals  we  saw  in  ther  millunery  shop." 


Frank  Uses  a  Whip.  37 

"Eva  Raymond  and  Ida  Day?" 

"Them's  um,  b'jee!" 

"Well,  what  sort  of  fun  was  Morse  and  O'Connor 
planning  to  have  with  the  girls?" 

"It's  this  way :  Them  gals  live  quite  a  ways  frum  the 
shop,  an'  they  walk  hum  to  dinner  ev'ry  day.  They  go 
together.  Them  two  sarnips  ha'  faound  it  aout,  an' 
they're  goin'  to  stop  um  on  the  road." 

"This  is  interesting,"  exclaimed  Frank,  pricking  up 
his  ears. 

"Yes,  they're  goin'  to  git  a  two-seated  team,  an'  go 
to  some  place  where  they  can  stop  the  gals.  Then 
they're  goin'  to  make  the  gals  git  in  an'  hav'  a  ride 
with  um." 

"Very  fine !"  exclaimed  Merry,  his  eyes  beginning  to 
flash.  "How  soon  is  this  to  take  place?" 

"They've  gone  after  the  team  naow." 

"Well,  we'll  follow  them,  Ephraim,  and  take  a  hand 
in  the  little  game.  What  do  you  say  to  that?" 

"Haow  are  we  goin'  ter  follow  um  ?" 

"On  our  wheels." 

"By  gum !  we  kin  do  that !     I'm  in  it  up  to  the  eyes !" 

"Then  come  on.     We  -have  no  time  to  lose." 

Frank  glanced  at  his  watch,  and  then  led  the  way  to 
the  room  where  Toots  still  was  working  over  the 
wheels.  Selecting  their  wheels,  Frank  and  Ephraim 
quickly  left  the  hotel. 

As  they  mounted,  a  two-seated  surrey  came  out  from 
the  stable  and  drove  away. 

Morse  and  O'Connor  were  seated  in  the  surrey. 

"We'll  ride  along  after    them,    and    keep  them  in 


38  Frank  Uses  a  Whip. 

sight,"  said  Frank.  "If  they  happen  to  look  around, 
we  will  pretend  we  do  not  see  them,  as  if  we  were  out 
taking  a  little  spin,  that's  all." 

This  plan  was  carried  out,  and  it  happened  that  the 
two  ball  players  were  so  busy  talking  that  they  did  not 
look  back.  The  surrey  turned  a  corner  to  the  left,  and 
then,  in  a  short  time,  turned  again,  making  it  evident 
the  two  rascals  had  ridden  away  in  the  wrong  direction 
so  their  real  purpose  might  not  be  suspected. 

Striking  a  certain  street  on  the  outskirts  of  the  place, 
they  permitted  the  horse  to  walk  slowly,  turning  about 
after  going  a  certain  distance,  and  coming  back. 

Frank  and  Ephraim  had  dismounted  at  the  corner. 
An  old  shed  stood  there,  and  into  that  they  had  stepped, 
taking  their  wheels.  Through  some  cracks  in  the 
boarding,  they  were  able  to  watch  Morse  and 
O'Connor 

Suddenly  the  men  in  the  carriage  were  seen  to 
straighten  up  and  appeared  interested. 

"The  gals  air  comin' !"  exclaimed  Ephraim,  excitedly. 
"I  kin  see  urn!" 

The  girls  were  approaching  at  a  rapid  walk. 

O'Connor,  who  was  driving,  turned  the  team  about, 
and  set  the  horse  to  walking  in  the  same  direction  the 
girls  were  pursuing. 

Frank  and  Ephraim  kept  out  of  sight  when  the  girls 
passed  the  shed. 

Ephraim  was  anxious  to  speak  and  warn  them,  but 
Frank  bade  him  be  still. 

"Let's  see  what  sort  of  girls  they  are,"  he  said. 
"They  may  be  willing  to  get  in  and  ride  with  those  fel- 


Frank  Uses  a  Whip.  39 

lows,  in  which  case  it  will  be  none  of  our  business,  and 
we  would  be  making  fools  of  ourselves  to  chip  in.  If 
they  don't  want  to  ride,  and  there  is  any  trouble,  it 
won't  take  us  long  to  reach  them." 

"By  gum !  yeou're  right — yeou're  alwus  right !" 

"Have  your  bicycle  ready  to  mount.  We  can  ride 
right  out  of  this  shed  into  the  street.  We  won't  lose 
any  time  if  we  have  to  go.  Get  ready !  The  girls  are 
almost  up  with  the  team.  They're  slackening  up,  as  if 
frightened!  They've  recognized  the  fellows!  Now 
the  team  has  stopped !  They  are  speaking  to  the  girls ! 
Morse  has  leaped  out!  I'm  sure  the  girls  are  fright- 
ened. They  shrink  away!  He  has  grasped  Eva  by 
the  arm — the  scoundrel !" 

"Come  on — b'gosh,  we'll  lynch  'em!"  Ephraim 
shouted,  making  a  wild  lunge  to  mount  his  bicycle,  but 
upsetting  with  a  loud  crash. 

Frank  sprang  into  the  saddle,  and  was  out  of  the  shed 
in  a  moment,  leaving  the  boy  from  Vermont  to  pick 
himself  up  and  follow  as  soon  as  possible. 

Wheeling  into  the  road,  Merriwell  pedaled  swiftly 
toward  the  team,  urged  onward  by  a  scream  of  alarm 
from  one  of  the  girls. 

"The  brute— the  ruffian !"  grated  Merriwell.  "I  feel 
that  I  could  break  his  worthless  neck !" 

Not  one  of  the  four  saw  Frank  coming  till  he  was 
right  upon,  them.  It  did  not  seem  that  he  slackened 
the  speed  of  his  wheel  to  dismount,  but,  letting  it  go, 
he  leaped  to  the  ground. 

"Oh,  help  me!"  gasped  Eva. 

"I  will !"  cried  Frank. 


40  Frank  Uses  a  Whip. 

Then — smack ! — his  fist  struck  just  under  the  ear  of 
Dad  Morse,  and  he  caught  the  little  milliner's  clerk  in 
his  arms  as  the  man  was  sent  staggering,  gasping,  curs 
ing,  nearly  falling. 

"Oh!  oh!"  cried  both  the  frightened  girls. 

O'Connor  gave  an  exclamation  of  astonishment  and 
a  snarl  of  rage. 

"It's  dat  fly  kid !"  he  cried.     "Bern  me  eyes !" 

Frank  paid  but  very  little  attention  to  either  of  the 
men,  but  spoke  calmly  and  reassuringly  to  the  girls. 

"It's  all  right,  young  ladies,"  he  declared.  "You 
need  have  no  alarm.  Mr.  Gallup  is  coming,  and  I  think 
we'll  be  able  to  take  care  of  you." 

Morse  recovered  with  astonishing  swiftness,  leaped 
toward  the  carriage,  and  snatched  out  the  whip. 

"I'll  fix  the  whelp!"  he  snarled. 

Swish ! — the  whip  cut  through  the  air. 

Regardless  of  the  girl  Merriwell  was  supporting,  the 
man  had  struck  with  all  his  strength,  and  the  the  lash 
curled  around  the  bodies  of  both  lad  and  maid. 

As  the  lash  stung  through  her  thin  clothes,  Eva  ut- 
tered a  scream  of  pain. 

Like  a  flash,  Frank  released  her  and  turned  on  the 
brute. 

Morse  had  lifted  the  whip  for  another  blow. 

"I'll  leave  the  mark  on  yer  face !"  he  almost  shouted. 

He  did  intend  to  scar  Frank's  face,  for  which  he 
struck  with  all  his  strength. 

Frank  ducked  and  leaped  sideways,  escaping  entirely. 

Then,  like  a  young  panther,  he  sprang  at  the  man, 
grappled  with  him,  wrenched  the  whip  from  his  hand. 


Frank  Uses  a  Whip.  41 

"Two  can  play  at  this  game !"  cried  Merry,  with  that 
peculiar  laugh  that  was  characteristic  with  him  in  times 
of  great  danger  or  excitement.  "You  struck  the  young 
lady,  and  you'll  apologize  to  her,  or  I'll  cut  the  clothes 
off  your  back  with  this  whip." 

Swish — spat!  swish — spat! 

Without  mercy  and  with  all  the  strength  he  could 
command,  Frank  swung  that  whip.  It  cut  through  the 
air,  it  twined  about  the  man's  arms  and  shoulders,  it 
doubled  him  up  with  pain  and  fury. 

"Oh!  oh!"  screamed  the  famous  pitcher  of  the  Fort 
Worth  team,  as  he  danced  about.  "Stop  it!  Oh, 
Satan  take  you!  I  will  kill  you  if  I  get  hold  of  you!" 

"I  haven't  a  doubt  but  you  would  enjoy  doing  so,  but 
you  will  not  get  hold  of  me,"  said  Merriwell,  as  he  con- 
tinued to  lay  on  with  all  his  strength.  "Are  you  ready 
to  apologize  humbly  to  the  young  ladies  ?" 

"Stop,  I  say !  Apologize — nuthin' !  Ow — wow — 
wow!  I'll  shoot  ye — I  will!" 

Morse's  hand  went  around  to  his  hip  pocket.  Not 
knowing  but  the  man  carried  a  revolver,  Frank  watched 
him  closely,  still  using  the  whip. 

But  the  man  was  blurring.  He  did  not  have  a  re- 
volver, and  he  had  hoped  to  frighten  Merriwell  by  his 
threat  and  movement. 

"Ye-ow!"  -he  screamed,  trying  to  dodge  and  run, 
only  to  find  Merriwell  had  dodged  around  and  was 
heading  hifn  off.  "Oh,  I'll  fix  you  for  this!  Oh, 
furies !  Don't  hit  me  again !" 

"Down  on  your  knees  before  these  girls !"  came  re- 
lentlessly from  Frank,  "down  and  apologize!" 


42  Frank  Uses  a  Whip, 

''Never!" 

"Then  you  get  it  harder !" 

He  did.  It  seemed  that  new  strength  came  into  the 
arm  of  the  lad  with  the  whip,  and  he  piled  on  the  blows 
with  added  swiftness. 

"Stop  him,  Con!"  begged  Morse.  "He's  cutting  me 
all  to  pieces!  He  is  killin'  me!  Ow — wow!  Stop 
him  quick !" 

But  O'Connor  was  having  all  he  could  do  to  keep 
the  horse  from  running  away,  as  the  animal  was  fright- 
ened by  the  sound  of  the  whip  and  the  cries  of  the  man 
who  was  being  lashed.  . 

"Whoa!"  he  roared.  "Wot's  der  matter  wid  yer! 
Stan'  still!  Wot  yer  tryin'  ter  do  jumpin'  roun'  dat 
way?" 

Morse  thought  his  friend  was  speaking  to  him,  and 
it  made  him  furious. 

"What's  ther  matter  with  you!"  he  howled  back. 
"Ow  thunder!  You  come  down  an'  try  it!  Blazes! 
You  won't  stan'  still  long!  You're  doin'  a  nice  job 

settin'  still  while  I'm  bein'  cut  up  this Murder! 

Wow !  wow !  wow !" 

"Haw!  haw!  haw!"  laughed  Ephraim  Gallup,  who 
had  arrived  on  the  scene  and  was  in  position  to  look  out 
for  both  girls.  "Haw!  haw!  haw!  That's  ther  gol 
darndest  funniest  sight  I've  seen  sence  I  left  ther  farm ! 
Give  it  ter  ther  critter,  Frank !  Make  him  squeal,  drat 
him!" 

"Will  you  apologize?"  demanded  Frank,  putting  ex- 
tra vim  into  a  blow  as  he  asked  the  question. 

"Apologize!     Whoop!" 


Frank  Uses  a  Whip.  4> 

"Get  down  on  your  knees!"  commanded  Frank, 
striking  again. 

Morse  tried  to  dodge  and  run  away,  but  he  sprang 
against  the  horse,  which  snorted  and  reared,  backing 
the  carriage  around  into  the  gutter,  and  nearly  upset- 
ting O'Connor. 

The  recoil  flung  the  man  backward,  and  he  went 
down  in  the  dust.  When  he  struggled  to  his  knees, 
Frank  Merriwell  stood  over  him  with  the  whip  uplifted, 
saying : 

"Stay  right  there  till  you  apologize,  or  I'll  give  it  to 
you  worse  than  anything  yet!  Don't  try  to  get  up!" 

"Don't — don't  hit  me!"  pleaded  Morse,  beginning 
to  weaken. 

"I  shall  if  you  try  to  rise." 

"Then  I  won't  try." 

"You  must  apologize." 

The  man  gave  Frank  a  look  of  unutterable  hatred. 

"What  shall  I  say?" 

"Apologize  for  insulting  these  young  ladies  and  for 
striking  Miss  Raymond  with  the  whip." 

"All  right,  I  apologize,  but 

"That  is  not  satisfactory.  You  must  apologize  in  a 
different  manner  than  that." 

"I  dunno  wot  ter  say,"  sullenly  growled  the  humil- 
iated rascal. 

"Then  I  think  I'll  use  the  whip  till  you  find  out." 

;5Mt  when  it  seemed  that  Frank  was  going  to  lay  on 
again,  Morse  quickly  said  : 

"I'll  do  the  best  I  can.  Young  ladies,  I  beg  yer  par- 
don if  I  have  insulted  yer.  I'm  sorry  fer  it." 


44  Frank  Uses  a  Whip. 

"Is  that  satisfactory,  Miss  Raymond  ?"  asked  Frank. 

"Oh,  quite  so!"  said  the  girl,  quickly,  still  shiver- 
ing and  nervous. 

"Is  it  satisfactory  to  you,  Miss  Day  ?"  blandly  asked 
Frank. 

"Yes,  yes!" 

"All  right,  then,"  said  Merriwell,  coolly.  "Get  up, 
Morse — get  into  that  carriage.  Move  about  it,  too! 
Now,  don't  stop  till  you  get  out  of  sight." 

The  man  hastened  to  get  into  the  carriage.  Then 
he  started  to  say  something,  but  Frank  started  forward 
with  the  whip,  and  he  caught  the  reins  out  of  O'Con- 
nor's hands,  yelling  to  the  horse : 

"Git  up— git!" 

Away  shot  the  animal,  having  been  held  in  restraint 
with  some  difficulty,  and  Frank  laughed  to  see  the 
brave  mashers  depart. 

"That  was  quite  satisfactory,"  he  said,  coolly.  "I 
am  inclined  to  think  they  will  not  bother  you  again, 
girls." 

At  a  distance  both  Morse  and  O'Connor  turned  to 
shake  their  fists  at  the  little  group  and  yell  back  pro- 
fane threats  of  vengeance. 

"How  can  we  ever  thank  you  for  what  you  have 
done?"  cried  Ida  Day. 

"How,  indeed?"  chimed  in  Eva  Raymond. 

"We  did  not  do  it  for  thanks,"  said  Frank,  gallantly. 
"It  was  a  pleasure  and  satisfaction  to  be  ?.ble  to  save 
you  from  being  annoyed  by  two  such  rascals." 


Frank  Uses  a  Whip.  45 

"That's  right,  b'jee!"  nodded  Ephraim.  "We  think 
we're  confaounded  lucky  to  git  the  chaince." 

"But  I  don't  see  how  it  was  that  you  happened  to 
come  along  here  just  in  time,"  said  Ida.  "Was  it  by 
chance?" 

"No,"  answered  Frank.  Then  he  told  them  how 
Ephraim  had  overheard  the  ball  players  plotting  to  stop 
them  on  the  road,  and  they  had  followed  Morse  and 
O'Connor. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  what  we  should  have  done  if  you 
hadn't!"  fluttered  Eva.  "I  never  was  so  scared  in  all 
my  life.  Why,  he  jumped  out  and  grabbed  me  by  the 
arm,  and  was  going  to  force  me  to  get  into  the  car- 
riage." 

By  this  time  a  number  of  persons,  who  had  heard 
Morse's  cries  and  seen  something  of  the  encounter,  were 
approaching  hastily.  Frank  knew  they  would  ask  a 
number  of  unpleasant  questions,  and  so  he  urged  the 
girls  to  hasten  toward  their  homes. 

"We  will  ride  along  on  our  wheels  and  keep  watch 
over  you,"  he  said ;  "so  you  will  not  be  troubled  again." 

He  knew  well  enough  that  there  was  no  danger  that 
Morse  or  O'Connor  would  make  a  further  attempt  to 
molest  the  girls  that  day,  but  the  girls  were  still  trem- 
bling and  frightened,  so  he  believed  it  best  to  ride  along 
and  make  them  feel  sure  they  were  safe  from  harm. 

This  was  carried  out,  the  boys  leaving  Eva  and  Ida 
at  the  door  of  the  cottage  where  the  former  lived. 

"I  don't  feel  as  if  I  ever  wanted  to  see  a  ball  game 
again  if  those  fellows  are  to  play,"  said  Ida. 

"Nor  I,"  agreed  Eva ;  "but  we  have  asked  to  go  out, 


46  Frank  Uses  a  Whip. 

and  we  may  as  well  go  this  afternoon.     Shall  we  see 
you  gentlemen  at  the  grounds  ?" 

Both  Frank  and  Ephraim  assured  the  girls  that  they 
would  be  there,  and  then,  lifting  their  caps,  mounted 
and  rode  back  toward  the  hotel. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     GAME     BEGINS. 

At  a  quarter  to  three  o'clock  that  afternoon  a  steady 
stream  of  people  was  pouring  through  the  entrance  to 
the  Fort  Worth  ball  ground. 

At  three  o'clock  one  of  the  largest  audiences  of  the 
season  had  assembled  to  witness  the  expected  game  be- 
tween the  locals  and  the  Little  Rocks. 

The  word  had  gone  out  that  Morse  was  going  to 
pitch.  Now  Morse  was  not  liked  personally  in  Fort 
Worth,  but  he  had  pitched  on  the  Little  Rock  team  the 
year  before  and  had  slaughtered  the  Fort  Worth  bat- 
teries. On  this  occasion  Fort  Worth  was  looking  for 
revenge.  Morse  was  a  bulldozer.  It  was  his  delight 
to  "nail"  a  batter  with  a  swift  ball,  and  scare  him,  if 
possible,  so  he  would  always  be  afraid  after  that.  He 
had  "nailed"  several  Fort  Worth  men,  and  now  Fort 
Worth  was  out  to  see  him  return  the  dose  to  Little 
Rock. 

But  Little  Rock  was  not  on  hand.  The  crowd 
looked  in  vain  for  the  Arkansaw  men.  Where  were 
they? 

Rumors  were  started  and  the  crowd  became  restless. 
Forth  Worth's  team  was  in  the  field  practicing.  They 
seemed  quite  unconcerned. 

"Where  is  Little  Rock  ?"  howled  a  stentorian  voice. 

"Play  ball !"  bawled  a  man  on  the  bleachers. 


48  The  Game  Begins. 

Sam  Seekins,  in  uniform,  for  he  played  as  well  as 
managed,  came  in  from  first  base,  and  asked  the  scorer 
what  time  it  was.  The  scorer  looked  at  his  watch,  and 
said  it  was  one  minute  past  three. 

Then  Seekins  looked  around  for  the  umpire,  and 
found  him. 

"Call  up  the  game,"  said  Seekins. 

"Eh?"  said  Dorsey,  astonished.  "Where  is  Little 
Rock?" 

"Little  Rock  is  in  the  soup.  Call  up  the  game.  My 
men  are  on  the  field,  and  I  propose  to  take  this  game  by 
forfeit." 

"But  what  if  Little  Rock  shows  up  late?" 

"She  won't." 

The  manner  in  which  Seekins  said  this  convinced 
Umpire  Dorsey  that  Seekins  knew  what  he  was  talking 
about,  so  he  walked  out  behind  the  home  plate  and 
cried: 

"Play  ball!" 

The  spectators  looked  on,  greatly  puzzled. 

Seekins  had  trotted  down  to  first,  and  Morse  walked 
out  into  the  box. 

Fort  Worth's  team  was  on  the  field,  and  the  men 
were  in  their  positions. 

Dorsey  broke  open  a  square  box,  took  out  a  ball  that 
was  covered  with  tinfoil,  removed  the  latter  and  then 
tossed  the  snowy  sphere  down  to  "Dad." 

Morse,  chewing  gum  and  grinning,  with  a  glove  on 
his  right  hand,  caught  the  ball. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?"  cried  a  spec- 
tator. 


The  Game  Begins.  49 

"Strike  out  the  first  batter,"  replied  Morse. 

Then  he  pitched  the  ball  over  the  plate,  and  Dorsey 
cried: 

"The  Little  Rocks  failing  to  appear,  this  game  is  for- 
feited to  Fort  Worth,  9  to  o." 

Then  there  were  cries  of  dismay  from  the  crowd, 
which  began  to' move,  as  if  to  leave  the  ground. 

"We  want  our  money  back!"  shouted  scores  of 
voices.  "Give  us  our  money!" 

Sam  Seekins  ran  in  from  first  to  home  plate. 

"Wait  a  moment,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  cried, 
in  a  loud  voice.  "I  am  very  sorry  to  disappoint  you  to- 
day, but  it  is  not  the  fault  of  our  team.  We  expected 
Little  Rock  to  appear  up  to  five  minutes  ago,"  he  lied. 
"Then  I  received  a  message  that  said  it  would  be  abso- 
lutely impossible  for  them  to  get  here." 

"Somebody  must  have  told  them  Morse  was  going  to 
pitch,"  yelled  a  small  boy. 

"But  you  need  not  be  deprived  of  seeing  a  hot  game 
of  ball,  if  you  care  to  remain,"  Seekins  went  on.  "This 
forenoon  I  was  challenged  to  play  a  college  team  on  this 
ground  for  one  hundred  dollars  a  side  and  the  gate 
money.  At  that  time  I  was  unable  to  accept  the  chal- 
lenge, having  no  open  date;  but  now  I  do  accept  it,  and, 
if  Frank  Merri well's  Yale  team  is  here,  we  will  play  a 
gume." 

"Hurrah!"  cheered  an  enthusiast.  "Yip!  yip!  ye-e- 
ee-e-ea !" 

"All  those  who  do  not  care  to  remain  and  see  the 
game,  may  leave  at  once  and  receive  their  money  at 


50  The  Game  Begins. 

the  gate,"  cried  Manager  Seekins.  "Here  comes  the 
Yale  crowd!" 

Out  from  the  dressing-rooms  under  the  grand  stand 
trotted  nine  lads  in  uniform  suits,  on  the  breast  of  each 
^eing  a  huge  white  Y.  They  made  a  good  appearance, 
and  some  of  the  disgusted  ones  who  had  started  to 
leave  the  grounds  stopped,  their  curiosity  aroused. 

"They  -have  a  crust  to  challenge  our  team  to  play  for 
a  hundred  dollars  a  side  and  the  gate  money!"  said  one 
man. 

"That's  right!"  growled  another.  "Why,  our  boys 
can  eat  that  crowd.  What  can  they  do  against 
Morse?" 

There  was  some  growling,  but  not  a  dozen  persons 
left  the  ground. 

The  Fort  Worth  team  came  in  from  the  field  and 
permitted  Merriwell  and  his  men  to  go  out  for  prac- 
tice. 

Frank  batted  to  the  infield,  and  one  of  the  Fort 
Worth  men  batted  to  the  outfield.  Seekins  had  coached 
his  men  not  to  give  the  outfield  men  any  difficult  balls, 
for  he  feared  they  might  show  up  so  bad  the  spectators 
would  be  disgusted. 

Gallup  showed  up  very  well,  and  Toots  dropped 
but  one  fly.  Hans,  -however,  did  not  seem  able  to  hold 
anything. 

The  infield,  directed  by  Frank,  was  picking  up  every- 
thing cleanly  and  doing  some  excellent  throwing. 

After  a  short  amount  of  practice  Frank  announced 
that  he  was  ready  to  begin  the  game. 

The  Fort  Worths  decided  to  take  their  "ins"  first, 


The  Game  Begins.  51 

and  Merriwell  walked  down  to  the  pitcher's  box,  while 
Hodge  got  into  position  behind  the  plate. 

"This  is  going  to  be  a  regular  farce,"  declared  one  of 
the  spectators  in  the  left  side  bleachers.  "Those  fel- 
lows are  a  lot  of  boys,  and  I  don't  believe  they  can  play 
ball,  anyhow.  If  this  game  is  rotten,  it  will  be  my  last 
for  this  season." 

"Mine,  too,"  declared  another.  "I  have  been  bun- 
coed enough.  There  is  no  reason  why  Fort  Worth 
should  not  be  at  the  -head  of  the  league.  We  are  pay- 
ing money  enough  to  have  the  best  team  in  the  South." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  a  third.  "We're  a  good  hun- 
dred over  the  salary  limit  and  still  we've  been  losing 
games,  right  along.  There's  a  nigger  in  the  wood- 
pile." 

"Seekins  has  three  new  men  in  the  field  to-day." 

"Who  are  they?" 

"Prince,  the  shortstop ;  Lorrimer,  in  center  field,  and 
Hemming,  on  second.  That's  what  has  helped  bring 
out  this  crowd,  together  with  the  report  that  Morse 
would  pitch." 

"The  game  is  going  to  begin !" 

"Who  is  that  young  fellow  in  the  box  for  the 
strangers  ?" 

"He  is  the  manager  of  the  team.  His  name  is  Mer- 
riwell." 

"Well,  he  is  a  fine  looking  fellow.  He  is  built  just 
about  right,  but  it's  ten  to  one  he'll  be  hammered  out  of 
the  box  in  a  hurry." 

"Here  they  go!" 

Then  the  voice  of  the  umpire  rang  out  clearly : 


52  The  Game  Begins. 

"Play  ball!" 

The  first  man  "up"  was  Francis,  Fort  Worth's  third 
baseman.  He  was  a  tall,  wiry  fellow  and  a  heavy 
hitter. 

Standing  with  the  ball  in  his  hand,  Frank  surveyed 
Francis  closely,  wondering  what  kind  of  ball  would 
fool  him. 

Merry  decided  to  try  an  out-drop,  keeping  it  away 
from  the  plate  to  start  with. 

Frank  had  a  splendid  delivery,  without  unnecessary 
flourishing,  and,  having  decided  how  he  would  start  off 
with  the  first  batter,  -he  sent  in  a  hummer. 

To  Frank's  astonishment  Francis  reached  out  with 
his  long  arms  and  long  bat  and  cracked  the  ball  when 
it  was  at  least  a  foot  beyond  the  plate,  sending  it  down 
into  right  field  for  a  single. 

Hans  raced  in  and  fell  over  the  ball,  but  managed  to 
pick  it  up  and  throw  it  to  second  after  a  time. 

"Oh,  my!  oh,  my!"  roared  a  loud  voice  from  the 
bleechers.  "Is  this  a  game  of  ball — or  what?  Get 
onto  the  toad  in  the  right !" 

"What  will  happen  to  that  poor  pitcher!"  shrieked 
another.  "It's  too  bad — too  bad !" 

Frank  laughed,  seeming  not  in  the  least  ruffled  He 
had  met  with  a  surprise  in  Francis,  but  he  resolved  not 
to  show  it. 

In  the  grand  stand  Frank  saw  two  girls  who  were 
watching  him  with  eager  interest. 

They  were  Eva  Raymond  and  Ida  Day. 

The  next  batter  to  come  up  was  Dix,  Fort  Worth's 


The  Game  Begins.  53 

right  fielder,  a  man  who  was  kept  on  the  team  for  his 
batting. 

Frank  felt  sure  Francis  would  try  to  steal  second, 
>:ot  knowing  anything  about  Hodge's  throwing. 

Seekins  himself  went  down  on  the  coach  line  He 
smiled  pityingly  on  Frank. 

"Too  bad !  too  bad !"  he  cried. 

Frank  smiled  back. 

"This  is  the  beginning  of  the  game,"  he  muttered, 
softly.  "Save  your  pity,  Mr.  Seekins.  You  may  feel 
differently  later  on." 

Hodge  came  up  under  the  bat,  adjusting  mask  and 
protector. 

Francis  began  to  dance  around  first,  and  Frank 
snapped  his  left  foot  out  of  the  box  and  jerked  a  ball 
over  to  Bruce  so  suddenly  that  the  big  fellow  nearly 
caught  the  man.  It  was  a  close  decision,  but  the  um- 
pire declared  Francis  safe. 

Bruce  tossed  back  the  ball,  and  then,  as  Francis 
started  off,  Frank  sent  it  back  in  a  manner  that  caused 
the  base  runner  to  nearly  break  his  neck  getting  back 
to  the  bag. 

"Keep  them  throwing  it,"  cried  Seekins.  "They'll 
ose  it  in  a  minute.  Here's  where  we  make  a  hundred 
co  start  off  with." 

But  Frank  suddenly  faced  the  batter,  having  received 
Bart's  signal  for  a  high  rise,  and  delivered  the  ball. 

As  Frank  had  expected,  Francis  attempted  to  go 
down  to  second  on  the  first  pitch.  He  was  a  swift 
runner,  but  Hodge  took  time  to  make  a  sure  throw,  and 


54  The  Game  Begins. 

he  sent  the  ball  shooting  down  to  second  straight  as  an 
arrow  and  swift  as  a  bullet. 

Diamond  had  'been  playing  off  the  bag,  but  Hodge 
threw  for  second,  regardless  of  Jack,  and  threw  low. 

The  Virginian  came  in  on  a  run  to  cut  off  Francis. 

"Slide!  slide!"  shrieked  Seekins. 

Forward  the  runner  flung  himself,  sliding  hands  first 
for  the  bag. 

The  umpire  had  taken  his  place  behind  Frank  as  soon 
as  Francis  reached  first,  and  now  he,  too,  scooted  down 
to  second  to  see  the  play. 

Diamond  took  the  ball  on  the  run,  getting  it  about 
two  feet  from  the  ground,  and  punched  it  into  Francis' 
back  as  the  latter  slid,  nailing  the  man  right  there,  and 
holding  him  without  blocking  at  least  a  foot  from  the 
base. 

"Runner  is  out!" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A     GREAT     THROW. 

The  voice  of  the  umpire  sounded  clear  and  distinct 

There  was  a  sudden  silence,  and  then  came  a  stir  in 
the  great  crowd  of  spectators.  A  cheer  went  up. 

"Well  done,  Yale !     That  was  easy !" 

"This  may  be  a  ball  game  after  all !" 

"That  catcher  can  throw !" 

"You  bet!     He's  all  right!" 

Frank  smiled  serenely  once  more,  turned  to  Seekins, 
and  winked  tantalizingly. 

"Too  bad !  too  bad !"  he  said 

"Well,  that  was  pretty  good  for  kids,"  admitted  the 
manager  of  the  Fort  Worths,  somewhat  crestfallen,  as 
Francis  picked  himself  up  from  the  ground,  brushed 
the  dust  off  his  clothes,  and  disgustedly  walked  off  the 
diamond. 

"You  have  a  good  man  behind  the  plate,  Merriwell, 
but  he  isn't  the  whole  team.  I  am  sorry  for  you.  You 
are  bound  to  see  grief." 

"Don't  let  that  turn  your  hair  gray,"  said  Merry, 
coolly.  "I  am  bound  to  see  the  gate  money  after  the 
game." 

"If  you  do,  you  will  see  it  when  I  am  putting  it  into 
my  pocket." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !     You're  not  so  warm,  old  man." 

Dix  was  waiting  impatiently.     He  felt  like  smashing 


56  A  Great  Throw. 

out  a  home  run.  He  was  confident  that  he  could  do  it, 
but  he  was  to  discover  that  too  much  confidence  is  some- 
times quite  as  'bad  as  too  little. 

Frank's  first  pitch  had  been  called  a  ball,  being  too 
nigh.  With  no  man  on  first,  he  took  his  position  in 
the  box,  and  received  his  signal  from  Hodge,  who  called 
for  a  low  in-shoot. 

In  another  moment,  like  a  flash,  Frank  sent  the  ball 
flying  over  the  inside  corner  of  the  plate. 

Dix  swung  for  it,  missed  it  and  was  thrown  off  his 
feet  by  the  force  of  his  own  blow. 

The  crowd  laughed. 

"Better  luck  next  time !"  shouted  a  voice. 

"If  you'd  hit  it,  they  never  could  have  found  the 
ball,"  came  from  another  direction. 

Bart  called  for  an  outcurve,  but  Frank  shook  his 
head.  Then  the  signal  for  a  slow  drop  was  given  and 
accepted. 

As  if  he  intended  to  drive  the  ball  with  all  the  speed 
he  could  command,  Frank  made  the  delivery. 

The  ball  seemed  to  -hang  in  the  air,  and  Dix,  believing 
it  was  a  straight  one,  started  to  swing  for  it.  Too  late 
he  saw  it  was  slow.  He  could  not  stop  his  bat,  nor 
could  he  get  it  down  under  the  ball,  so  he  missed  en- 
tirely. 

"Two  strikes !"  cried  the  umpire. 

Dad  Morse  was  watching  Merriwell  closely,  scowl- 
ing in  an  ugly  manner.  He  shook  his  head  a  bit, 
growling : 

"He's  tricky;  but  I'll  fix  him  the  first  time  he  faces 


A  Great  Throw.  57 

me.  He's  all  the  pitcher  they've  got,  and  we  can  have 
fun  with  him  as  soon  as  he  is  knocked  out !" 

"Wait,"  advised  O'Connor.  "If  we  can  git  onter 
der  duck,  it  will  hurt  him  more  dan  anyt'ing  ter  bat  him 
all  over  der  lot." 

"Yer  never'll  bat  him  very  hard,  unless  he  gets  rat- 
tled." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !     He's  not  such  a  much." 

"Wait  and  see.     You  follow  Dix." 

"An'  I'll  make  der  kid  sick." 

Morse  looked  doubtful,  but  expressed  a  hope  that 
O'Connor  might  be  able  to  do  so. 

Up  in  the  grand  stand  were  two  breathless  girls  who 
were  watching  the  game  with  the  most  intense  interest. 

"Isn't  he  handsome,  Eva?"  whispered  Ida  Day. 
"Just  look  at  him  now !  I  think  he  is  perfectly  splen- 
did!" 

"So  do  I,"  returned  Eva  Raymond;  "but  I  want  to 
see  him  do  something,  and  they  have  put  him  so  far 
away  out  there  in  the  field." 

"Put  him  so  far  away!  Who  are  you  talking 
about?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Gallup,  of  course!" 

"I  mean  Frank  Merriwell." 

"Oh!" 

"Of  course!" 

Then  both  laughed. 

"Mr.  Gallup  is  awfully  awkward,  Eva,"  said  Ida. 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  He  is  just  as  brave  as 
he  can  be.  Remember  how  he  stood  up  for  Tommy. 
I  think  he  is  rather  good-looking,  too.  I  know  he  isn't 


58  A  Great  Throw. 

handsome,  but  he  has  a  good  face,  and  it  is  so  honest 
I  always  thought  I  should  feel  like  making  fun  of  a  real 
Down  East  Yankee,  but  I  don't  feel  that  way  a  bit 
about  him." 

"Gracious!"  exclaimed  Ida.  "And  you  are  the  girl 
who  can  have  the  handsomest  fellow  in  Fort  Worth  if 
you  want  him.  All  the  good-looking  fellows  are  after 
you." 

"Perhaps  so,  but  I'm  like  my  sisters,  I  judge.  Both 
of  them  married  homely  men,  and  took  them  instead 
of  handsome  fellows.  They  have  the  best  husbands  in 
Texas,  too." 

"Well,  you  are  queer !" 

"Perhaps  I  am,  but  there  is  something  about  Eph- 
raim  Gallup  that  makes  me  like  him  more  than  any  fel- 
low I  ever  met  before." 

"Look — Mr.  Merriwell  is  going  to  pitch  again!" 

Disgusted  by  his  ill  success,  Dix  was  desperate.  He 
felt  that  he  must  make  a  hit,  or  be  eternally  disgraced. 
His  jaws  were  set  in  a  determined  manner,  and  he  fully 
understood  that  it  was  not  going  to  be  such  an  easy 
thing  to  hammer  Merriwell. 

Frank  was  watching  Hodge's  mouth.  Bart  was  up 
under  the  bat,  and  putting  his  hands  up  to  each  side 
of  his  face,  he  signaled  for  a  high,  swift  ball. 

For  one  moment  Frank  hesitated,  feeling  for  some 
reason  that  Dix  could  hit  a  high  ball.  Still,  he  knew 
Bart  had  good  judgment,  and  he  resolved  to  make  the 
ball  so  high  that  there  would  be  little  chance  that  the 
batter  would  get  it  if  he  went  after  it 


A  Great  Throw.  59 

Like  a  flash,  Merry  sent  in  a  straight  one,  putting  it 
above  Dix's  shoulders. 

The  batter  went  for  it 

And  got  it ! 

With  all  his  strength  he  smote  the  ball,  and  a  great 
shout  went  up  when  the  sphere  sailed  away  toward 
center  field. 

In  an  instant  Frank  saw  it  was  going  far  over  Gal- 
lup's  -head. 

"A  home  run!"  howled  the  spectators. 

"Back,  Ephraim— back!" 

The  cry  came  from  Frank,  but  Gallup  had  turned 
and  was  racing  back  toward  deepest  center. 

Dix  seemed  to  fly  down  to  first,  crossed  the  bag  at 
wonderful  speed,  made  for  second,  seeming  to  have 
wings  attached  to  his  feet. 

The  spectators  stood  up  and  shouted.  The  bleachers 
broke  into  a  hoarse  roar,  and  a  shriller  note  came  from 
the  grand  stand.  It  was  plain  there  were  plenty  of 
baseball  enthusiasts  in  Fort  Worth. 

Frank's  heart  sank,  for  he  saw  that  Gallup  would 
not  be  able  to  reach  the  ball.  It  looked  like  a  safe  drive 
for  four  bags. 

"I'll  know  better  than  to  give  that  man  a  high  swift 
ball  again!"  muttered  Frank,  regretfully. 

Over  Gallup's  head  went  the  ball,  and  over  second 
base  sped  the  runner. 

Down  by  first  Seekins  was  shouting,  but  his  voice 
was  drowned  in  the  roar  of  the  crowd.  Over  by  third 
another  coacher  was  making  frantic  gestures  for  Dix 
to  keep  right  on  and  make  a  home  run  of  it. 


60  A  Great  Throw. 

Ephraim's  long  legs  took  him  after  the  ball  as  swiftly 
as  possible,  but  it  raced  away  from  him.  He  flung  him- 
self at  it — fell  on  it. 

The  spectators  shrieked  with  laughter.  It  was  very 
funny.  Why,  that  long,  lank  chap  out  in  the  field 
couldn't  play  ball  no  matter  how  hard  he  tried,  tie 
•was  sure  to  fall  over  himself.  It  was  all  right  now; 
Dix  was  sure  to  get  home  without  a  struggle. 

Up  came  Gallup,  as  if  he  had  rebounded  from  the 
ground.  He  got  his  long  legs  under  him  and  whirled 
around  as  if  on  a  pivot. 

He -had  the  ball! 

But  Dix  had  crossed  third  and  was  tearing  up  the 
dust  along  the  line  that  led  down  to  home  plate. 

What  a  snap!  It  was  impossible  to  stop  that  score 
now.  Morse  was  grinning  and  chewing  gum,  while 
O'Connor  was  shouting  in  his  ear : 

"Dat's  wot'll  break  Merriwell's  heart!  Oh,  he'll  fall 
to  pieces  now !  We'll  kill  der  fly  kid !" 

Of  course  Gallup  must  throw  to  Diamond  on  second, 
and  Diamond  must  catch  the  ball,  turn,  throw  it  home. 
By  that  time  Dix  would  be  safe  over  the  plate,  and 
Fort  Worth's  first  score  would  be  a  home  run  off  Frank 
Merriwell. 

Of  course Wait  a  minute !  Of  course  nothing ! 

What  was  Gallup  trying  to  do?  He  must  be  crazy! 

With  all  his  strength,  Ephraim  threw  the  ball.  Ii 
did  not  rise  high  in  the  air.  At  no  time  was  it  more 
than  forty  feet  from  the  ground. 

But  the  boy  from  Vermont  had  not  thrown  to  Dia- 


A  Great  Throw.  61 

mond.  He  had  made  an  attempt  to  throw  home  from 
deepest  center — a  supposedly  impossible  feat. 

A  sudden  hush  came  over  the  spectators  as  they  saw 
the  ball  come  sailing  through  the  air  like  a  shot,  seem- 
ing to  gain  speed  till  it  had  passed  over  the  head  of 
Jack  Diamond. 

The  bleachers  had  stopped  roaring,  and  the  grand 
stand  was  silent.  Seekins  was  gasping  for  breath. 
The  other  coacher  seemed  paralyzed  with  astonish- 
ment, i 

Hodge  was  standing  two  feet  in  front  of  the  home 
plate  and  somewhat  to  one  side  toward  third,  his  eye 
on  the  ball,  his  manner  calm  and  confident. 

Seekins  saw  the  ball  was  bound  to  reach  home  with- 
out touching  the  ground,  and  he  threw  off  the  lethargy 
that  had  come  over  him. 

"Slide!"  he  shrieked  at  the  runner,  "slide,  slide!" 

Dix  had  seen  the  ball  go  over  Gallup's  head,  and  this 
cry  to  slide  astounded  him.  He  had  not  dreamed  there 
could  be  any  danger  that  he  would  not  score  easily. 
Seekins  must  be  fooling ;  he  must  be  trying  to  make  fun 
for  the  crowd.  What  was  the  use  to  slide? 

Then  came  the  voice  of  the  other  coacher  howling: 

"Slide,  you  fool— slide!" 

What  was  the  matter  with  him?  Well,  why  not 
slide  and  have  some  sport  out  of  it  ?  It  was  bound  xo 
be  a  foolish  game  anyway. 

Dix  slid.  He  did  it  gracefully  and  easily.  As  he 
went  down,  he  saw  Hodge  gather  something  in.  It 
couldn't  be  the  ball !  Then  he  felt  a  thump  on  the  back, 
just  before  his  hands  reached  the  plate,  and  he  was 


62  A  Great  Throw. 

stunned  with  astonishment  when  the  voice  of  the  um- 
pire announced : 

"Man  is  out!" 

Stunned — yes!  He  was  so  astonished  that  he  lay 
on  the  ground,  looking  up  over  his  shoulder. 

Hodge  had  a  ball,  but  it  couldn't  be  the  one  batted 
far  out  into  deepest  center.  There  was  some  "monkey 
business"  here,  and  Dix  felt  sure  of  it. 

For  a  little  the  spectators  were  silent,  as  if  they,  too, 
who  had  witnessed  the  wonderful  throw,  were  unable 
to  believe  it  had  actually  been  done. 

Then  came  a  roar  from  the  bleachers — a  scream  from 
the  grand  stand.  Hats  waved  in  the  air,  and  hand- 
lcerchiefs  fluttered. 

Roar!  roar!  roar!  It  was  not  cheering,  but  it  was 
a  wild  burst  of  astounded  admiration.  Never  had  such 
a  wonderful  throw  been  made  on  that  ball  ground. 

"What's  the  matter  with  longlegs!"  howled  a  voice 
that  could  be  heard  above  the  riotous  tumult. 

"He's  all  right !"  howled  back  another  voice. 

Then  there  was  another  roar — wilder,  louder,  more 
intense. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    GAME    BECOMES    INTERESTING. 

"Sign  him,  Seekins!" 

Thus  shouted  an  enthusiast  from  the  grand  stand. 

And  in  the  grand  stand  were  two  girls  who  were 
overcome  with  delight. 

"There!"  exclaimed  Eva;  "he  has  done  something 
now!" 

"My !  my !"  came  from  Ida.  "How  could  he  throw 
so  far  and  so  straight  ?  Hear  them  cheer  him !" 

Sam  Seekins  stood  with  his  hands  on  his  hips,  star- 
ing out  at  Ephraim,  as  if  he  wondered  what  sort  of  an 
arm  the  Yankee  lad  possessed. 

Dad  Morse  stopped  grinning,  and  Con  O'Connor 
scratched  his  pimply  chin  and  growled : 

"Dat  beats  der  band!"  said  O'Connor.  "I  bet  dat 
chap  can  get  der  world's  record  fer  t'rowin'." 

"I  wonder  if  all  them  chaps  can  throw  as  well  as  the 
catcher  an'  center-fielder?"  said  Morse,  angrily. 

"If  dey  can,  dey're  birds!  But  we're  gettin'  enter 
Merriwell's  curves  all  right.  Didn't  I  tell  yer!  We'll 
t'ump  him  all  over  der  lawn  directly.  Everybody  can 
hit  him.  Watch  me." 

It  was  O'Connor's  turn  to  bat,  and  he  picked  up  a 
stick. 

Dix  had  crawled  to  his  feet  and  gone  to  the  bench  in 
disgust,  "kicking  like  a  steer."  He  felt  that  he  had 


64       The  Game  Becomes  Interesting. 

been  robbed  of  a  sure  home  run,  and  the  trick  had  been 
done  by  the  greatest  jay  he  ever  saw  on  a  ball  field. 

Frank  was  well  satisfied,  even  though  the  first  two 
men  up  had  secured  -hits.  The  work  of  Hodge  and 
Gallup  had  convinced  the  Fort  Worth  players  that  the 
"Yale  Combine"  was  not  so  poor  as  they  had  thought 
at  first.  The  next  man  to  get  first  on  a  single  would 
not  be  so  eager  to  try  to  steal  second,  and  when  Gallup 
secured  a  ball  in  center  the  man  on  third  would  hesitate 
about  trying  to  score  on  it. 

But  Frank  resolved  to  use  his  own  judgment  on  the 
kind  of  balls  he  would  pitch  in  the  future.  He  called 
Bart  down,  and  told  him  he  would  signal,  but  in- 
structed Hodge  to  keep  up  a  pretense  of  signaling,  so 
the  opposing  players  would  not  tumble  to  the  fact  that 
Frank  was  doing  this  part  of  the  work. 

O'Connor  had  decided  from  the  batting  of  the  two 
men  before  him  that  Merriwell  was  one  of  the  "fresh" 
college  pitchers  who  put  them  all  over  the  plate  when  he 
was  able  to  find  it.  Such  a  pitcher,  as  a  rule,  is  "fruit," 
so  Con  decided  to  pick  out  a  good  one  and  break 
Frank's  heart. 

The  first  ball  did  not  suit  him,  but  the  umpire  called 
a  strike,  somewhat  to  his  disgust. 

The  second  looked  like  a  "bird." 

He  went  after  it,  and,  to  his  surprise,  missed  it  by 
a  foot. 

"Two  strikes!"  cried  the  umpire. 

Then  O'Connor  made  a  discovery,  for  the  next  three 
were  "coaxers,"  not  one  of  them  where  he  wanted  it. 


The  Game  Becomes  Interesting.       65 

He  found  that  Merriwell  was  not  inclined  to  put  every- 
thing over. 

And  now  it  stood  two  strikes  and  three  balls.  The 
next  pitch  would  decide  it. 

Frank  saw  that  O'Connor  was  more  than  eager  to 
"hit  it  out."  He  felt  sure  he  could  "find"  the  ball,  and 
he  did  not  want  to  get  his  base  on  "four." 

This  was  the  time  that  Merry  decided  to  work  his 
slow  drop.  If  O'Connor  hit  it,  he  was  pretty  sure  to 
pop  up  a  little  one  to  the  infield,  but  it  was  a  difficult 
ball  to  hit  at  all,  all  the  more  so  from  the  fact  that 
Frank  had  been  using  speed  altogether  on  the  batter. 

Frank  assumed  a  position  for  delivery  that  meant 
he  was  going  to  pitch  a  drop,  and  Browning,  Diamond 
and  Rattleton,  who  had  played  with  him  in  games  and 
practice  at  Yale,  understood  the  sign  quite  as  well  as 
Hodge. 

With  exactly  the  same  movement  he  had  used  in 
pitching  the  swift  balls,  Frank  sent  in  another  that 
seemed  to  hang  back  in  the  air  and  then  went  down 
toward  the  ground  in  a  most  astonishing  manner. 

He  had  made  no  mistake,  for  O'Connor  went  after 
it,  fanned,  and  threw  down  his  bat  with  an  exclamation 
of  rage. 

Plunk ! — the  ball  struck  in  Bart's  big  glove.  Whiz ! 
— it  went  flying  down  to  first. 

Browning  lazily  gathered  it  in. 

"Batter  out!"  called  the  umpire. 

It  was  over  and  Fort  Worth  had  failed  to  score  in 
their  half  of  the  first  inning,  although  they  had  started 
off  to  "make  a  hundred." 


66       The  Game  Becomes  Interesting. 

Three  men  had  come  to  the  plate,  and,  although  two 
of  them  obtained  -hits,  no  more  came  up.  All  three  were 
out,  and  the  last  man  had  fanned. 

The  spectators,  not  a  few  of  whom  were  somewhat 
"sore"  on  the  locals,  were  rejoiced.  They  expected 
that  Fort  Worth  would  win,  but  were  glad  to  see  the 
strangers  putting  up  such  a  game,  and  gave  the  Yale 
crowd  a  hearty  burst  of  applause  when  they  came  in 
from  the  field. 

"Vale,"  grinned  Hans,  with  satisfaction,  "dot  peen 
der  time  when  we  done  der  tricks,  poys." 

"Begorra!  it's  litthle  ye  done,  ye  Dutch  chaze!"  said 
Barney. 

"Vot  I  said  to  you?"  cried  Hans.  "I  got  me  hold 
der  pall  uf,  und  dot  vas  more  as  you  done,  alretty  yet." 

"Ye  fell  all  over  th'  ball  gettin'  av  it." 

"Und  der  pall  fell  all  ofer  Efy,  too;  but  he  didn't 
done  a  thing  to  dot  runners.  Yaw !  Dot  peen  almost 
as  goot  as  I  nefer  done." 

As  Ephraim  approached  the  bench  he  was  given  a 
round  of  applause. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  Yankee?"  shouted  a 
voice. 

"He's  all  right !"  roared  back  another.  "Hooray  for 
him!" 

Then  the  bleachers  cheered,  and  there  was  a  flutter- 
ing of  handkerchiefs  from  the  grand  stand. 

The  face  of  the  boy  from  Vermont  was  crimson,  but 
he  grinned  in  a  happy  manner. 

Frank  came  in  at  Ephraim's  side,  giving  his  hand  a 
squeeze,  and  saying: 


The  Game  Becomes  Interesting.        67 

"It  was  the  finest  throw  I  ever  saw,  old  man !  You're 
all  right,  and  you  have  caught  the  crowd" 

"Gosh!"  exploded  Ephraim.  "I  never  felt  so  thun- 
derin'  foolish  in  all  my  life !  Whut  be  they  makin'  such 
a  taouse  abaout?  It  makes  me  wish  I  was  to  hum 
on  the  farm." 

"See!"  said  Frank,  "look  near  the  center  of  the 
grand  stand.  There  are  our  Fort  Worth  friends,  and 
they  are  waving  their  handkerchiefs  to  us.  You  are 
a  hero  this  afternoon,  Ephraim." 

"Wai,  it's  the  fust  time  I  ever  was,  an'  I  don't  know 
as  I  like  ther  feelin'  of  it." 

Fort  Worth  took  the  field,  Morse  going  into  the  box. 
Then  some  of  the  new  friends  the  Yale  Combine  had 
made  shouted  for  Seekins  to  take  Morse  out. 

"Give  the  boys  a  show !"  cried  a  big  man,  standing 
up  in  the  midst  of  the  bleachers.  "What's  the  use  to 
spoil  the  game  by  putting  Dad  in?  They  can't  hit 
him." 

"Take  him  out!  take  him  out!"  cried  many  voices. 

Seekins  made  a  gesture  that  brought  silence  to  the 
assembly. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  cried,  clearly,  "Morse 
has  been  advertised  to  pitch  to-day,  and  so  he  will 
pitch  at  least  one  inning.  After  that,  I  think  we'll  take 
him  out,  for  he'll  not  be  needed." 

This  silenced  and  satisfied  those  who  had  started  in 
to  "root"  for  Merriwell's  team. 

"So  that's  what  Seekins  thinks,"  muttered  Frank. 
"Boys,  we  must  do  our  best  to  make  him  change  his 
mind  this  inning.  Go  right  at  Dad,  and  don't  be  afraid 


68       The  Game  Becomes  Interesting. 

of  him.  Fort  Worth  may  get  a  greater  surprise  in  this 
half  than  it  did  in  the  other." 

Browning  was  the  first  batter.  He  picked  out  a  stick, 
and,  as  he  started  toward  the  plate,  Frank  softly  said 
to  him : 

"Line  it  out,  Bruce.  He  will  put  it  over  for  you,  and 
use  speed.  You  can  eat  speed.  Meet  it  fair — that's 
all." 

The  big  fellow  nodded,  as  if  he  felt  too  lazy  to  speak. 
He  loafed  up  to  the  plate. 

Already  the  crowd  had  caught  on  to  the  fact  that 
Browning  was  a  tired  sort  of  fellow,  and  it  cried : 

"He'll  never  be  able  to  dodge  one  of  Dad's  in-shoots. 
Look  out  and  do  not  hit  him,  Dad." 

Morse  grinned  in  his  nasty  way,  his  jaws  working 
over  a  chew  of  gum.  He  stood  up  facing  first  base,  his 
gloved  right  hand  concealing  the  ball  in  his  left. 

In  a  moment  Frank  Merriwell  was  on  his  feet,  start- 
ing forward,  pointing  straight  at  the  pitcher,  as  his 
voice  rang  out  clear  and  plain : 

"Make  him  show  that  ball  before  he  delivers,  Mr. 
Umpire — make  him  show  it !  He  has  no  right  to  con- 
ceal it  that  way." 

For  an  instant  the  grin  vanished  from  Dad's  face, 
and  there  was  a  gleam  of  fury  in  his  small  eyes.  He 
made  a  gesture  as  if  he  would  throw  the  ball  at  Frank. 

"I'll  show  it  to  you!"  he  muttered.  "I'll  bore  you 
with  it!" 

"If  you  throw  it  at  me.  Til  agree  to  break  your  head 
with  a  bat!"  said  Merriwell,  coolly,  showing  not  the 
least  sign  of  fear. 


The  Game  Becomes  Interesting.       69 

This  was  something  Dad  Morse  was  not  accustomed 
to,  as  he  was  a  bully,  and  he  had  often  terrorized  op- 
posing players  on  the  field.  It  was  his  pleasure  to  in- 
timidate a  young  college  player,  and  he  had  fancied  the 
game  would  work  with  this  aggregation  of  boys. 

Some  of  the  spectators  hissed  Morse.  Although 
Fort  Worth  was  intensely  partisan  in  most  cases,  and 
Morse  was  considered  a  good  man  for  the  team,  it  did 
not  like  the  bullying  pitcher  personally,  and  it  felt  that 
the  youthful  strangers  should  be  used  like  gentlemen 
as  long  as  they  conducted  themselves  in  a  gentlemanly 
manner. 

The  umpire  compelled  Morse  to  show  some  of  the 
ball  before  pitching,  which  he  did  in  a  sullen  manner. 

Browning  was  ready,  and,  after  balancing  himself, 
with  his  right  foot  forward,  Morse  suddenly  shot  in  a 
high  one  with  his  greatest  speed. 

Browning  seemed  to  swing  his  bat  carelessly  almost 
before  the  ball  left  the  pitcher's  hand.  He  found  it  all 
right,  and  it  went  sailing  away  over  the  head  of  Prince, 
Fort  Worth's  new  shortstop.  Prince  leaped  into  the 
air  for  it,  but  did  not  touch  it. 

Then  Bruce  awoke,  cheered  by  the  roar  that  came 
from  the  surprised  and  delighted  spectators,  and  ran 
after  the  manner  that  had  once  made  him  famous  on 
the  Yale  freshman  football  team. 

Over  first  he  shot,  at  the  command  of  Rattleton,  who 
was  coaching,  and  kept  on  for  second,  which  he  got 
safely  without  having  to  slide. 

A  two-bagger  off  the  first  ball  Morse  pitched  was 
something  wonderful,  and  it  was  not  strange  that  those 


70       The  Game  Becomes  Interesting. 

who  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  Yale  crowd  whooped 
with  joy. 

Dad  continued  to  grin  and  chew  gum,  but  his  face 
had  grown  pale  with  anger,  for  all  that  he  tried  to  con- 
ceal it. 

"Yow!  yow!  yow!"  yelled  Rattleton,  as  he  danced 
about  down  by  first ;  "what's  the  batter  with  Mowning 
— I  mean  what's  the  matter  with  Browning?" 

"Shimminy  Gristmas!"  cried  Hans,  in  delight. 
"You  wait  till  I  done  dot  tricks !  Oh,  we  peen  der  poys 
to  blay  pall!" 

Although  it  is  not  the  custom  to  place  the  battery 
near  the  head  of  the  batting  list,  Frank  had  run  Hodge 
in  as  second  man,  and  given  the  third  place  to  himself. 
He  had  done  this  to  make  the  head  of  the  list  as  strong 
as  possible. 

Bart  danced  up  to  the  plate,  his  face  looking  grave 
enough,  but  a  light  of  satisfaction  in  his  black  eyes. 

For  all  of  his  grin,  Morse  looked  ugly.  He  snapped 
his  jaws  over  the  gum,  and  then  shot  a  ball  at  Bart. 

Hodge  dropped  to  the  ground,  and  avoided  it. 

"You  hadn't  better  hit  me!"  he  flashed,  as  he  picked 
himself  up.  "If  I  think  you  do  it  intentionally,  I'll 
get  back  at  you  if  the  crowd  mobs  me!" 

Morse  continued  to  grin,  but  said  nothing.  He  be- 
lieved he  had  frightened  one  of  the  players. 

But  Dad's  nerve  had  been  ruffled  by  Browning's  hit, 
and  he  put  in  two  more  that  were  not  good,  getting 
three  balls  straight  called  on  him. 

Hodge  did  not  seem  at  all  anxious.  He  let  a  good 
one  go  past,  and  heard  the  umpire  call  a  strike.  Then 


The  Game  Becomes  Interesting.        71 

came  another  that  looked  good,  but  it  proved  to  be  too 
high,  and  Bart  did  not  swing. 

"Four  balls,"  decided  the  umpire. 

Bart  tossed  aside  the  bat  and  trotted  down  to  first. 

Then,  looking1  Morse  in  the  face  and  laughing 
4uietly,  Frank  Merriwell  selected  the  same  bat  Brown- 
ing had  used,  and  advanced  to  the  plate. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HOT    WORK. 

Although  he  continued  to  grin,  the  eyes  of  Dad 
Morse  gleamed  with  hatred  most  intense.  He  longed 
to  hit  Frank  in  the  head  with  the  first  ball  he  pitched. 

"I'd  like  ter  kill  him !"  he  mentally  exclaimed. 

Then,  of  a  sudden,  he  sent  in  a  ball  with  all  the  force 
he  could  command.  At  the  start  it  looked  like  a 
straight  one  close  to  Merriwell,  but  it  was  one  of  Dad's 
quick  in-shoots,  and  Merry  dodged  it  with  the  greatest 
difficulty. 

As  Frank  straightened  up,  he  gave  Morse  a  look  that 
meant  volumes.  It  was  a  warning,  although  not  a 
word  was  spoken. 

But  Morse  was  furious,  and  he  drove  the  second  ball 
straight  at  Frank,  doing  it  so  suddenly  that  he  thought 
Merry  would  be  taken  off  his  guard. 

Again  Frank  dodged  barely  in  time  to  get  out  of  the 
way,  and  he  knew  the  ball  would  have  severely  injured 
him  if  it  had  hit  him. 

From  the  grand  stand  came  cries  of : 

"Shame!  sfiame!" 

The  bleachers  arose  and  howled  their  disgust.  It 
was  plain  enough  that  Morse  was  trying  his  old  trick, 
and  the  spectators  were  not  at  all  pleased.  If  the  op- 
posing team  had  been  the  bullying  Little  Rocks  it  would 
have  seemed  all  right ;  but  the  Yale  Combine  had  acted 


Hot  Work.  73 

like  gentlemen,  and  Fort  Worth  was  disgusted  to  see 
a  pitcher  on  their  team  try  to  bully  the  strangers  or  in- 
jure them  in  a  dirty  way. 

"Take  him  out,  Seekins!"  howled  a  big  man  with 
red  whiskers.  "We  didn't  come  here  to  see  this  kind 
of  work!" 

"Look  here,  Morse,"  said  Frank,  quietly  but  sternly, 
as  he  faced  the  pitcher,  "if  you  throw  another  ball  at 
me,  I  shall  throw  this  bat  at  you,  and  I'll  guarantee  you 
will  have  hard  work  to  dodge  it." 

"That's  right !"  shouted  the  man  with  the  red  whisk- 
ers; "and  if  he  dodges  it,  I'll  come  over  and  thump 
him  with  something  he  can't  dodge." 

Sam  Seekins  saw  that  Morse  was  arousing  the  anger 
of  the  spectators  and  causing  them  to  sympathize  with 
the  strangers,  which  was  something  he  did  not  want. 

He  walked  in  toward  Dad  a  bit,  saying : 

"Be  careful  now !    Don't  hit  anybody." 

"What  if  I  can't  -help  it?"  grinned  Morse,  in  his 
hateful  way. 

"Then  you  had  better  go  out  of  the  box.  This  is  an 
exhibition  game.  We  are  not  out  for  blood." 

"I  am!"  muttered  Morse,  under  his  breath. 

But  Dad  saw  that  it  would  not  do  to  make  any 
further  attempt  to  hit  Frank  that  time.  He  resolved  to 
try  the  trick  later,  if  the  opportunity  seemed  to  come 
just  right. 

Two  balls  had  been  called  on  him,  and  so  he  decided 
to  put  one  over.  He  worked  the  outside  corner,  and 
Merriwell,  whose  nerves  did  not  seem  at  all  shaken  by 
what  had  happened,  rapped  a  hot  one  into  right  field. 


74  Hot  Work. 

Browning  had  been  playing  well  off  from  second, 
and  he  got  a  good  start,  so  that  it  was  useless  to  try  to 
stop  him  from  scoring,  while  Hodge  took  third. 

Again  the  enthusiasm  of  the  spectators  was  aroused, 
and  it  seemed  as  if,  all  at  once,  the  entire  crowd  had 
gone  over  to  the  side  of  the  Yale  Combine. 

"Why,  they're  right  onto  Dad!"  roared  the  man 
with  the  red  whiskers.  "He  don't  seem  to  scare  them 
chaps!" 

Having  scored,  Browning  dragged  himself  over  to 
the  bench,  where  he  dropped  down  heavily,  dismally 
groaning : 

"I  wouldn't  do  anything  like  that  for  any  other  fel- 
low in  the  world  but  Frank  Merriwell !  It's  awful !" 

Rattleton  came  to  bat  next.  He  was  a  left-handed 
batter,  and,  as  Morse  was  a  left-handed  pitcher,  Harry 
could  not  touch  the  ball.  Dad  fanned  him  out  with 
ease. 

In  the  meantime  Frank  had  stolen  second,  and  all 
that  was  needed  was  a  good  hit  to  drive  in  two  more 
scores  and  give  the  Yale  Combine  a  fine  start. 

Harry  was  disgusted  to  think  he  could  not  make  that 
hit,  and  he  begged  Barney  to  "line  her  out." 

"Oi'll  do  me  bist,"  said  Mulloy,  as  -he  advanced  to 
the  plate. 

But  Barney  popped  up  an  easy  one  to  short,  and  still 
Bart  and  Frank  remained  on  the  bases. 

Diamond  took  his  turn  at  the  bat  with  a  do-or-die 
look  in  his  eyes.  Two  strikes  were  called  on  him,  and 
then  he  fell  on  the  ball  with  all  the  vigor  in  him. 

Away  sailed  the  sphere,  and  a  great  shout  went  up, 


Hot  Work.  75 

for  Hodge  was  racing  down  to  score,  and  Merriwell 
was  coming  in.  It  looked  like  a  safe  hit  and  good  for 
two  bags  at  least. 

Then  it  was  that  Lorrimer,  Fort  Worth's  new  cen- 
ter fielder,  showed  the  stuff  there  was  in  him,  for,  after 
a  long  run,  he  leaped  into  the  air  and  pulled  the  ball 
down. 

Diamond  was  out,  and  the  inning  had  ended  I  to  o 
in  favor  of  Frank  Merri well's  combine. 

"Now  we'll  fall  on  that  fresh  young  duck  and 
hammer  him  all  over  the  yard,"  said  Morse,  as  the  Fort 
Worth  team  came  in  to  the  bench. 

"Dat's  right,"  nodded  O'Connor.     "He'll  be  easy." 

"Don't  use  him  too  rough,"  advised  Seekins.  "He 
is  young,  but  he  will  get  over  it,  if  he  lives  long 
enough." 

But  the  Fort  Worths  were  destined  to  meet  with  the 
greatest  surprise  of  their  lives,  for  but  three  men  came 
to  the  bat,  and  they  fanned  out  one  after  another,  not 
one  of  them  being  able  to  connect  with  the  ball  for 
anything  more  than  a  foul. 

"Well!  well!  well!"  roared  the  delighted  man  with 
the  red  whiskers.  "What  has  Seekins  met  up  with  this 
time?" 

"Shimminy  Gristmas!"  gurgled  Hans,  as  he  trotted 
in  from  the  field.  "Don'd  this  peen  a  snaps!  Id  vas 
more  fun  than  you  efer  seen  per  fore." 

"Don't  anybody  get  the  idea  that  we  have  a  snap 
here,"  advised  Frank.  "This  has  started  out  for  a  red- 
hot  game.  If  we  can  hold  our  own  a  while,  we  may 
win;  but  we  have  not  played  together,  and  there  is 


76  Hot  Work. 

danger  that  we'll  go  ail  to  pieces  the  moment  one  or 
two  bad  plays  are  made." 

"Begorra!"  exclaimed  Barney;  "it's  mesilf  thot  don't 
see  how  we're  goin'  to  make  any  bad  plays  at  all,  at 
all,  whin  ye're  doin'  all  th'  worruk,  Frankie." 

"But  that  can't  keep  up,"  Merriwell  declared.  "I'll 
not  strike  three  men  out  every  inning.  The  rest  of  the 
team  will  get  some  work  before  long." 

Ephraim  was  the  first  man  at  bat.  He  stood  up  to 
the  plate  with  his  feet  too  wide  apart,  looking  gangling 
and  awkward,  and  Morse  had  a  picnic  with  him,  for 
he  seemed  to  close  his  eyes  and  whang  away  at  any- 
thing. He  did  not  seem  to  come  within  a  yard  of  the 
ball,  and  was  sent  to  the  bench  in  a  hurry. 

Toots  was  next,  and  Frank  -had  some  hopes  of  him. 

"Crack  it  out,  Toots,"  advised  Frank.  "If  he  uses 
speed  on  you,  just  meet  it  fairly,  and  it  will  go  all 
right." 

"I's  gwan  ten  do  mah  bes',  Marser  Frank,"  declared 
the  colored  lad.  "It's  been  some  time  sence  I  played 
ball,  an'  I  nebber  tried  to  strike  a  pitcher  dat  c'u'd  sen' 
'em  in  lek  dey  wus  shot  out  ob  a  gun — no,  sar!" 

It  was  plain  that  Toots  was  uneasy  and  frightened, 
and  he  fell  an  easy  victim.  Only  once  did  he  swing 
his  bat.  Morse  pitched  four  balls,  and  three  of  them 
were  strikes,  so  Toots  was  sent  to  join  Ephraim  on 
the  bench. 

Dunnerwust  picked  out  a  bat  and  waddled  up  to  the 
plate. 

"Oh,  my!"  grinned  Morse. 

"Shust  you  vait  an  hour!"  advised  Hans,  seriously. 


Hot  Work.  77 

"I  peen  goin'  to  make  you  said  'oh,  my !'  Der  umbire 
petter  ged  oudt  anodder  pall,  for  you'll  nefer  found 
dot  one  after  I  hit  id." 

This  caused  some  merriment  among  the  spectators, 
but  there  was  still  greater  merriment  when  Hans 
slammed  at  the  first  ball  so  -hard  that  the  force  of  the 
blow  yanked  him  off  his  feet  and  landed  him  on  the 
ground  on  the  back  of  his  neck. 

Ephraim  ran  out  and  helped  the  Dutch  lad  up.  Then 
Hans  picked  up  his  bat,  and  looked  it  over  in  sober  as- 
tonishment. 

"I  don'd  seen  der  hole,"  he  said,  and  the  crowd 
laughed  again. 

"Why,  it's  a  regular  circus !"  cried  somebody.  "I'm 
glad  Little  Rock  stayed  away." 

Hans  refused  to  use  that  bat  again,  but,  with  another 
stick,  he  did  not  do  any  better. 

"Try  another,"  advised  somebody. 

"Yaw,  I  vas  goin'  to  done  dot,"  said  Hans,  and  he 
changed  again. 

But  with  no  better  success,  and  he  went  out  quickly, 
making  the  third  man. 

Morse  had  duplicated  Merriwell's  trick  by  striking 
out  the  side  and  retiring  it  in  one,  two,  three  order. 

Some  of  Frank's  men  were  inclined  to  be  despondent 
as  they  went  into  the  field,  but  Merriwell  laughed  at 
them  and  encouraged  them. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  declared.  "We  must  keep  right 
after  them,  that's  all.  We  have  the  start  on  them." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A    HOME    RUN. 

A  beautiful  game  it  proved  to  be.  The  outfield 
of  the  Yale  Combine  was  given  very  little  to  do,  but 
every  man  in  the  infield  found  hot  work,  and  they 
responded  beautifully. 

At  short  Barney  made  some  wonderful  stops  and 
lightning  throws,  while  Harry,  on  third,  without  doubt 
the  most  difficult  position  of  the  infield,  took  some  hot 
"skimmers"  off  the  ground  and  sent  them  across  the 
diamond  as  if  they  had  been  thrown  by  powder. 

Diamond  saved  Dunnerwust  no  small  amount  of 
work  by  getting  back  into  right  field  and  capturing 
two  flies  that  looked  difficult  for  Hans. 

Up  to  the  fifth,  not  an  error  was  made  on  either  side, 
and  not  a  man  save  Browning  had  crossed'the  plate. 

In  this  inning  Fort  Worth  got  a  man  on  first  by  a 
hit,  sacrificed  him  to  second,  and  then  a  fly  that  was 
dropped  by  Toots  let  the  score  in,  making  the  game 
tied,  with  one  of  the  Fort  Worth  team  on  second. 

"Here's  where  we  do  it,  boys!"  cried  Seekins. 

But  Frank  remained  cool  as  ever,  put  on  more  steam, 
and  struck  out  the  next  two  batters. 

Now,  indeed,  it  was  a  hot  game.  Fort  Worth  took 
a  turn  at  making  errors,  and  but  for  the  fact  that  the 
"wrong  end"  of  the  batting  list  came  up,  Merriwell's 
team  would  have  secured  at  least  two  scores.  As  it 


A  Home  Run.  75 

was,  stupid  base-running  on  the  part  of  Hans  shut 
them  out  without  a  tally. 

From  this  time  on  to  the  ninth  it  stood  i  and  i,  with 
the  spectators  expecting  every  inning  that  Fort  Worth 
would  make  a  spurt  and  run  in  four  or  five. 

Morse  was  batted  harder  than  usual,  which  seemed 
to  break  him  all  up.  The  thought  of  being  batted 
freely  by  a  team  of  boys  broke  his  courage,  and  it  was 
by  the  greatest  kind  of  outfield  work  that  Fort  Worth 
•held  the  Yale  Combine  down. 

Seekins'  men  went  in  in  their  half  of  the  ninth  to 
win  the  game,  and,  with  one  man  out,  they  filled  the 
bases. 

Right  there  a  safe  hit  would  have  decided  it  by 
bringing  in  two  runs. 

Then  it  was  that  Frank  showed  the  stuff  he  was 
made  of,  as  he  struck  out  the  heaviest  batter  among 
the  professionals,  and  caused  the  next  man  to  pop  up 
a  little  one  to  Barney,  who  smothered  it  with  ease. 

At  this  point  the  excitement  was  such  as  had  not 
been  known  on  that  field  for  the  season.  The  visitors 
were  sheered  with  such  wild  enthusiasm  that  the  game 
could  not  go  on  for  some  minutes. 

"You've  got  'em,  youngsters !"  roared  the  red-whisk- 
ered man.  "That  was  their  last  chance !  Give  it  to  'em ! 
If  you  score  now,  it  fixes  the  thing !" 

"We  must  keep  them  from  scoring,"  said  Seekins  to 
his  men.  "Get  them  over  onto  an  extra  inning,  and  we 
will  do  'em.  Hold  'em  down,  Dad !" 

"Oh,  to  blazes  with  this  kind  of  business!"  retorted 
Morse,  surlily,  his  grin  having  vanished  from  his  face. 


8o  A  Home  Run. 

"Here  I  am  throwing  my  arm  off  to  beat  a  lot  of  kids! 
I  didn't  sign  for  this!" 

"If  you  do  not  hold  them  down,  you  will  be  the  guy 
of  the  whole  town,"  said  Seekins. 

Mulloy  was  the  first  man  up,  and  he  got  a  safe  hit ; 
but  he  was  desperate,  and  tried  to  make  it  a  two-bag- 
ger. This  was  a  mistake,  for  he  was  caught  at  second 
on  a  close  decision. 

Frank  kicked  and  the  crowd  howled,  but  the  umpire 
was  obstinate.  Then  Merriwell  saw  the  umpire  had 
been  given  a  tip  to  aid  Fort  Worth  to  win  if  he  could 
do  so  without  making  the  trick  too  open. 

Diamond  came  next,  and  two  strikes  were  called  on 
him  when  both  of  them  should  -have  been  balls.  It  was 
useless  to  kick,  and  he  went  after  the  next  one  that 
came  anywhere  near  the  plate,  popping  up  a  high  foul, 
that  fell  into  the  catcher's  glove. 

Two  men  were  out,  and  Morse  began  to  grin  again 
and  wag  his  jaws. 

Gallup  came  next,  and  he  had  not  obtained  a  hit  for 
the  day.  Since  making  the  marvelous  throw  in  the 
first  inning,  he  had  done  nothing  to  distinguish  himself. 

"This  is  easy,"  thought  Dad,  as  he  sent  over  a 
"hummer." 

At  this  point  came  a  surprise.  Ephraim  struck  with 
all  his  might,  and 

Crack! — he  hit  it! 

"Run!" 

A.  hundred  voices  roared  the  word. 

Ephraim  obeyed.     With  his  long  legs  working  in  a 


A  Home  Run.  81 

wild  and  jerky  manner,  his  arms  flying  about  like  flails, 
he  pranced  down  to  first. 

Rattleton  was  there  as  coacher: 

"Git!"  he  screamed,  "git  along!" 

On  to  second  charged  Ephraim,  while  the  ball  was 
bounding  away  out  into  left  field,  with  two  men  pur- 
suing it. 

As  he  went  over  second,  Gallup's  legs  became  en- 
tangled, and  he  fell  down,  sending  up  a  perfect  cloud 
of  dust. 

He  was  up  in  a  minute,  and,  with  legs  and  arms 
working  furiously,  eyes  bulging,  teeth  set  and  hair 
standing,  he  tore  along  to  third. 

Mulloy  was  on  the  coach  line  there.  He  saw  one  of 
the  fielders  rising  with  the  ball,  but  he  knew  the  rrian 
would  not  be  able  to  throw  it  home. 

"C'wan,  ye  tarrier!"  screeched  the  Irish  lad,  catch- 
ing hold  of  Ephraim's  arm  and  sending  him  toward  the 
home  plate.  "Hurro!  It's  an  Oirishmon  fer  luck  ye'd 
oughter  be!" 

The  fielder  sent  the  ball  whistling  to  short,  the  short- 
stop caught  it,  whirled,  sent  it  shooting  home. 

O'Connor  was  waiting  for  it,  and  it  was  plain  enough 
that  Gallup  stood  little  show  of  scoring. 

Merriwell  saw  this,  and  was  on  his  feet,  wishing  he 
could  do  something  to  aid  the  Vermonter  in  getting 
home. 

The  shortstop's  throw  was  high,  causing  O'Connor 
to  stand  erect.  Had  it  been  a  low  throw,  Ephraim 
would  not  have  stood  a  chance,  unless  O'Connor  had 
muffed  it. 


82  A  Home  Run. 

Now  there  was  one  chance  in  a  hundred. 

"Slide,  Ephraim — slide,"  shouted  Frank,  and  Gallup 
made  a  -headlong  plunge  for  the  plate. 

He  got  there!  There  was  no  doubt  of  it,  for  O'Con- 
nor was  unable  to  get  the  ball  and  get  down  in  time  to 
make  it  so  close  that  the  umpire  would  dare  declare 
it  out. 

"Safe  home!"  declared  the  umpire,  regretfully. 

Then  there  was  a  roar — then  the  crowd  came  char- 
ging from  the  bleachers  into  the  diamond  and  cheered 
with  delight. 

And  Dad  Morse — where  was  he  ?  When  they  looked 
for  him  he  was  not  to  be  found.  O'Connor  had  like- 
wise vanished. 

Merriwell's  men  were  all  heroes,  but  Frank  and 
Ephraim  were  regarded  as  the  greatest  heroes. 

"Sign  the  whole  team,  Seekins !"  shouted  the  crowd. 

When  it  was  all  over,  Frank  and  Ephraim  walked 
from  the  ground  beside  Ida  Day  and  Eva  Raymond. 
Two  happier  girls  were  not  to  be  found  in  Fort  Worth, 
and  scores  of  other  girls  regarded  them  with  open 
envy. 

The  report  of  the  game  spread  like  fire,  and  the  whole 
town  heard  of  it  in  a  short  time.  Those  who  had  not 
attended  were  sorry,  and  those  who  left  the  field  were 
disgusted  with  themselves. 

Wherever  the  boys  went  they  were  regarded  with 
wonder.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that  those  beardless 
"kids"  had  beaten  Fort  Worth's  professionals. 

But  that  the  game  was  "on  the  level"  there  could 


A  Home  Run.  83 

be  no  doubt,  for  the  strangers  gathered  in  the  gate 
money. 

The  following  forenoon  Sam  Seekins  came  to  Frank 
and  Bart  and  tried  to  sign  them  as  a  battery. 

"I'll  give  you  two  hundred  and  fifty  a  month  for  th 
season,  and  all  expenses,"  he  said. 

"You  could  not  get  us  for  twice  that  money,"  smiled 
Frank.  "It  would  make  us  professionals,  and  that 
would  debar  us  from  amateur  games." 

"But  I  must  have  you !"  exclaimed  Seekins.  "Both 
Morse  and  O'Connor  have  jumped  the  team  and  disap- 
peared. I  have  a  message  that  Little  Rock  will  be  on 
hand  this  afternoon,  and  I  have  no  battery  that  I  feel 
like  putting  against  them." 

"I  hadn't  ought  to  pitch  two  games  in  succession,  like 
that,  but  I  will  try  it  to  help  you  out,  and  I  think  Bart 
will  catch  me ;  but  that  is  all  the  game  we  can  play  with 
your  team,  and  we  will  not  take  pay  for  that.  Eh, 
Bart?" 

"Make  much  arrangements  as  you  like,"  said  Bart. 
"I  am  with  you." 

So  it  was  settled,  and  that  afternoon  Frank  pitched 
for  Fort  Worth  against  the  "slugging"  Little  Rocks. 
He  gave  Little  Rock  exactly  five  hits  and  Fort  Worth 
won  "in  a  walk." 

This  was  the  greatest  surprise  the  Southern  League 
received  for  the  season. 

The  boys  were  urged  to  stay  and  play  more  games, 
but  Frank  declined  the  offer. 

"We  must  move  on/'  he  said.    "I  have  already  writ- 


84  A  Home  Run. 

ten  to  a  friend  of  mine  at  Guthrie,  saying  I  would  spend 
the  night  with  him  and  I  always  keep  my  word." 

"Will  you  play  more  ball  there?"  questioned  Seekins. 

"I  hardly  think  so.  We  are  out  for  all  sorts  of 
sports — not  baseball  alone." 

There  the  talk  ended,  and  the  Combine  left  Fort 
Worth  early  in  the  morning,  a  crowd  at  the  depot  gir- 
ing  them  a  rousing  cheer  as  they  departed. 


CHAPTER  X. 

FRANK    MAKES    AN    ENEMY. 

The  howl  of  a  dog  in  pain,  accompanied  by  the 
sound  of  blows,  came  from  the  'big  stable  at  the  rear  of 
the  Oklahoma  Hotel  in  the  town  of  Guthrie. 

Frank  Merriwell  turned  abruptly,  stopping  in  his 
walk,  and  looked  toward  the  building.  The  unmerciful 
beating  of  a  dog  always  angered  him.  In  this  case 
there  was  a  possibility  that  it  might  be  one  of  his  dogs 
that  was  receiving  this  cruel  treatment. 

Merriwell  and  his  friends  had  arrived  in  Guthrie  the 
evening  before.  As  he  had  told  Seekins,  he  had  passed 
the  night  at  the  residence  of  Judge  Willard  Joyce,  who 
was  an  old  Yale  man,  while  the  others  had  put  up, 
at  the  expense  of  the  Guthrie  Gun  Club,  at  the  Okla- 
homa Hotel,  the  best  public  house  in  the  town. 

Judge  Joyce  was  not  only  an  old  Yale  man  and  a 
politician  and  official  of  prominence  in  the  territory  of 
his  adoption,  but  he  was,  likewise,  an  enthusiastic 
sportsman,  and  it  was  through  him  a  special  invitation 
had  been  extended  to  Merriwell  and  his  friends  to  visit 
the  booming  little  city  of  Guthrie,  partake  of  the  club's 
hospitality,  and  enjoy  the  sports  that  the  region  round- 
about afforded. 

One  of  the  promised  sports  was  jack-rabbit  coursing, 
and  our  hero  had  brought  up  from  Fort  Worth  two  of 
the  fastest  greyhounds  that  money  could  buy,  and  had 


86  Frank  Makes  an  Enemy. 

placed  them  in  this  stable,  set  apart  for  the  housing 
of  the  hounds. 

He  glanced  up  at  the  hotel,  where  his  friends  were 
probably  breakfasting,  for  the  time  was  early  morning, 
then  walked  to  the  stable  door,  drew  it  quickly  open, 
and  stepped  inside. 

A  young  man  of  twenty-three  or  twenty-four  was 
using  a  dog  whip  on  a  fine  -hound.  The  dog  had  backed 
into  a  corner  and  now  lay  on  the  floor  quivering  under 
the  blows  so  mercilessly  rained  on  it. 

It  was  not  Merriwell's  hound. 

The  young  man  was  Sneed  Parker.  Frank  had  met 
him  at  the  hotel  the  evening  before  and  been  introduced 
to  him.  He  was  a  physician  and  a  resident  of  Guthrie. 

As  the  door  opened  and  Frank  stepped  within,  Sneed 
Parker  turned  angrily,  the  whip  still  uplifted. 

But  for  a  certain  tallowy  whiteness,  Parker's  face 
might  have  been  called  handsome.  Even  his  anger 
could  scarcely  give  color  to  it.  He  glared  at  Frank  as 
if  he  thought  the  latter's  coming  a  menace,  and  the 
words  with  which  he  greeted  the  intrusion  almost  made 
Frank  believe  Parker  had  been  drinking. 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  ?  If  I  choose  to  whip  my 
dog  when  he  disobeys  me,  you've  no  call  to  interfere!" 

"Perhaps  not,"  said  Merriwell,  resolved  to  maintain 
his  composure  in  spite  of  the  biting  accent  that  made 
Parker's  words  so  irritating.  "It  seems  to  me,  though, 
that  you're  rather  hard  on  the  dog.  He'll  not  be  fit  to 
run  if  you  beat  -him  that  way." 

The  hound  whimpered  and  looked  toward  him.  Its 
appealing  eyes  were  almost  human  in  their  intelligence. 


Frank  Makes  an  Enemy.  87 

There  was  in  Merriwell's  voice  and  in  Merriwell  him- 
self what  was  lacking  in  Sneed  Parker,  that  true  and 
inner  kindness  which  attracts  the  attention  and  love  of 
children  and  animals.  The  hound  felt  it,  and,  still 
whimpering  like  a  punished  child,  it  began  to  crawl  out 
of  its  corner  toward  him. 

The  action  rekindled  Sneed  Parker's  fury.  He 
turned  to  the  hound  and  began  to  beat  it  again,  while  it 
cringed  at  his  feet  and  yelped  in  pain. 

"Stop  that!"  commanded  Merriwell,  taking  a  step 
forward. 

Parker  faced  around,  his  eyes  blazing.  His  white, 
tallowy  face  grew  even  more  ghastly. 

"Take  that  for  your  interference!"  he  cried,  aiming 
a  blow  with  his  whip  at  Frank  Merriwell's  face. 

Swish — snap ! 

The  whip  cut  the  air  and  landed  with  stinging  force, 
causing  Frank  to  stagger  backward,  uttering  a  cry. 

But  he  did  not  fall,  for  he  had  flung  up  one  arm  and 
protected  his  face  from  the  savage  attack. 

It  almost  seemed,  however,  that  the  lash  of  the  whip 
had  cut  through  his  sleeve,  and  Frank  was  thoroughly 
aroused. 

The  next  instant  he  leaped  at  Parker  and  tore  the 
whip  from  his  grasp. 

"Even  up,  is  my  motto,"  he  half  laughed. 

Then  the  biting  lash  whistled  through  the  air  once 
more  and  descended  on  Parker's  neck,  leaving  a  red 
welt. 

Sneed  Parker  sprang  back  with  a  cry  of  rage,  drew  a 


88  Frank  Makes  an  Enemy. 

revolver  from  his  hip  pocket  and  threw  it  forward  as  if 
to  shoot. 

But  for  the  third  time  the  lash  whistled  through  the 
air.  It  caught  the  revolver  and  jerked  the  weapon 
from  Parker's  hand  to  send  it  spinning  to  the  other  side 
of  the  stable. 

Before  Parker  could  regain  his  head  and  determine 
what  to  do,  the  stable  door,  which  had  swung  partly  to, 
was  again  thrust  open,  and  Bart,  Harry  and  Jack 
pushed  in,  closely  followed  by  Bruce  and  Ephraim, 
while  outside  were  heard  the  voices  of  Barney,  Hans 
and  Toots.  The  landlord  of  the  hotel  was  with  them, 
and  all  had  been  drawn  to  the  stable  by  the  pitiful  cries 
of  the  hound. 

"Put  down  that  whip  and  I  will  fight  you  in  any  way 
you  may  name,"  Sneed  Parker  declared. 

"But  I  have  no  desire  to  fight  you,"  Frank  answered. 

"Oh,  you  are  afraid  to!"  sneeringly  returned  the 
furious  man.  "You  interfere  in  what  is  my  business, 
you  take  the  whip  out  of  my  hands,  and  then  you  talk 
that  way!" 

Frank  turned  and  gave  the  whip  to  the  landlord. 

"You  may  think  as  you  please  about  that,  Dr. 
Parker!"  he  continued.  "What  you  think  is  a  matter 
of  indifference  to  me.  If  I  interfered  it  was  because 
you  were  beating  that  poor  dog  to  death.  Cruelty  to 
animals  is  considered  a  crime  in  most  place?,  and  I  pre- 
sume it  is  not  held  in  high  esteem  in  Oklahoma." 

"Right  you  are!"  asserted  Rattleton,  who  always 
stood  ready  to  back  Frank  in  anything  without  investi- 


Frank  Makes  an  Enemy.  89 

gation.  "So  he's  the  chap  that  was  heating  the  bound 
— I  mean  beating  the  hound !  It  would  serve  him  right 
to  give  him  a  little  taste  of  his  own  medicine." 

A  disfiguring  sneer  curled  the  thin  lips  of  Sneed 
Parker. 

"I  shall  have  to  back  down,  of  course,  with  a  dozen 
against  me.  I  can't  fight  all  of  you,  and  Mr.  Merri- 
well  refuses  to  fight  me  alone,  therefore,  I  see  noth- 
ing else  for  me  to  do. 

"But,"  shooting  a  wicked  glance  at  Frank  and  lay- 
ing special  stress  on  the  words,  "Mr.  Merriwell  needn't 
flatter  himself  that  this  little  affair  is  ended.  I  shall 
do  nothing,  of  course,  while  he  is  the  guest  of  the  gun 
club,  but  I  shall  expect  satisfaction  for  this  insult  be- 
fore he  leaves  town." 

"As  you  please,"  said  Merriwell.  "I  won't  fight 
you  now,  because  you  are  in  a  passion,  and  for  the 
further  reason  that  it  would  not  seem  fair  with  these 
friends  at  my  back.  But  if  you  must  have  satisfaction 
before  I  leave  Guthrie " 

"Oh,  come  away  and  let  him  alone !"  grumbled  Dia- 
mond. "We  didn't  come  to  this  town  to  fight,  and 
we're  not  going  to  unless  we're  jumped  on." 

Browning  was  leaning  lazily  against  the  side  of  the 
door,  yawning.  He  had  been  hurried  from  his  room 
while  still  dressing,  called  by  Gallup,  who  said  Merri- 
well was  having  a  fight  in  the  stable  with  a  man  who 
was  whipping  one  of  the  dogs. 

He  was  about  to  open  his  mouth  to  say  something, 
when  Barney  Mulloy  put  in  an  oar  and  stopped  him. 

"Begobs,  Oi  dunno  about  thot,  so  Oi  don't!" 


90  Frank  Makes  an  Enemy. 

Frank  turned  away.  He  was  sorry  he  had  been 
forced  into  so  violent  an  antagonism  with  a  citizen  of 
Guthrie  and  with  a  member  of  the  gun  club  at  whose 
invitation  he  and  his  friends  were  there.  He  won- 
dered if  he  had  acted  hastily,  but  his  conscience  told 
him  he  had  not. 

"Diamond  is  right  in  one  thing,"  he  declared.  "We 
didn't  come  to  this  town  to  fight,  and  I  am  sorry  this 
thing  occurred.  Dr.  Parker  will  think  better  of  what 
he  has  said  after  a  while,  and  I  am  sure  he  will  not 
want  to  lose  the  esteem  of  the  people  of  Guthrie  by 
cruel  treatment  of  one  of  his  hounds,  even  though 
the  dog  has  not  been  entirely  obedient." 

Then  he  stepped  from  the  stable  and  walked  toward 
the  hotel,  leaving  his  friends  to  follow  him  at  their 
leisure. 

In  some  way  the  story  of  his  interference  with  Dr. 
Parker  got  abroad,  probably  through  the  landlord, 
and  a  few  hours  later  the  subject  was  broached  by 
Judge  Joyce,  as  he  and  Frank  talked  together  in  the 
judge's  cozy  sitting-room. 

"I  don't  know  that  you'll  be  in  any  danger  from 
Parker,"  the  judge  observed,  when  Frank  had  con- 
fided to  him  the  correct  story,  "though  I  should  ad- 
vise you  to  keep  your  eyes  open.  He  is  not  very  well 
known  here,  and  for  one  I  haven't  a  very  -high  opinion 
of  him." 

"I  thought  he  was  an  old  resident,"  said  Frank. 

The  judge  laughed. 

"None  of  us  are  old  residents.     This  town — city  we 


Frank  Makes  an  Enemy.  91 

call  it — was  nothing  but  pasture  land  a  little  while  ago. 
But  Sneed  Parker  is  a  new  resident,  even  for  this 
place.  He  came  here  about  two  months  ago  and  hung 
out  his  shingle.  I  presume  he  has  some  practice, 
though  I  really  don't  know.  At  any  rate,  he  lives  well 
and  dresses  well.  He  was  let  into  the  gun  club  against 
my  judgment  and  vote,  though  he  is  a  good  shot  and 
something  of  a  sportsman.  You  may  have  noticed 
the  pasty  look  of  his  skin." 

"Yes,"  answered  Frank.  "It  was  one  of  the  first 
things  I  noticed." 

"Please  consider  this  confidential,  but  I  am  sure  he 
is  a  dope  fiend.  I  think  he  is  an  habitual  user  of  mor- 
phine, or  some  such  drug,  hypodermically.  I  say 
hypodermically,  for  I  never  saw  him  take  anything 
in  the  form  of  liquid,  pill  or  powder,  and  I  once  no- 
ticed some  scars  on  his  arm.,  when  his  sleeve  chanced 
to  slip  up,  that  were  undoubtedly  made  by  a  hypo- 
dermic syringe." 

"Perhaps  that  was  why  he  acted  as  he  did — whipped 
that  poor  dog  so,  and  then  turned  on  me  in  such  a 
rage.  He  may  not  be  entirely  responsible  for  all  that 
he  does." 

"You  may  be  right,"  nodded  the  judge.  "There  is 
one  thing  I  do  not  much  like.  Dope  fiend  as  he  is,  he 
is  rather  handsome,  in  spite  of  his  tallowy  complexion. 
He  is  also  something  of  a  dresser  and  presents  a  pleas- 
ing appearance.  Society  here — which  doesn't  require 
a  certified  pedigree  or  the  exhibition  of  a  coat  of  arms 
— has  made  him  welcome;  and  the  worst  of  it  all  is 
that  he  seems  to  have  walked  into  the  affections  of  one 


92  FranK  Makes  an  Enemy. 

of  the  sweetest  girls  we  have  in  this  town — Miss  Alice 
Dean,  daughter  of  the  cashier  of  the  Traders'  Bank." 
"So!"  said  Frank.  "That  almost  makes  me  wish  I 
had  given  him  another  cut  with  the  whip  while  I  had 
so  good  an  opportunity." 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  "JACK  RABBIT. " 

"Will  yez  git  onto  the  coorves  av  thot  rabbit?" 
cried  Barney  Mulloy,  with  well-affected  surprise,  as 
he  and  the  other  members  of  Frank  Merriwell's  party 
came  out  on  the  hotel  piazza.,  after  having  done  jus- 
tice to  a  well-cooked  and  well-served  meal. 

Tied  to  a  post  near  the  corner  of  the  piazza  was  one 
of  those  diminutive  donkeys  that  are  known  to  the 
West  as  burros,  and  it  was  to  this  that  Barney  called 
attention.  It  was  very  small,  even  for  a  burro,  and 
its  gray  color  and  huge  ears  made  it  look  not  unlike 
a  big  rabbit. 

"Oi've  heard  a  d'ale  about  the  soize  av  those  jock 
rabbits,"  Mulloy  continued,  "but,  be  me  sowl,  Oi 
never  dr'amed  av  seein'  wan  av  thim  as  big  as  thot!" 

"Shimminy  Gristmas!"  exclaimed  Hans  Dunner- 
wust,  with  rounding  eyes.  "Vos  dot  a  rappit  peen  vor 
sure?  I  t'ought  I  voult  know  one  uf  dem  rappit  shacks 
ven  he  seen  me.  He  coult  run  a  minid  in  a  mile,  I  pe- 
lief  me,  dot  veller  coult.  Yaw!" 

Barney  gave  the  other  members  of  the  party  a  sug- 
gestive wink.  He  saw  that  the  burro's  hoofs  were  hid- 
den in  the  grass,  which  grew  there  rather  luxuriantly, 
and  he  thought  it  would  be  fine  sport  if  he  could  make 
the  Dutch  boy  believe  this  was  one  of  the  immense  jack 
rabbits  of  which  all  had  recently  talked  so  much. 


94  A  "Jack  Rabbit." 

"By  chaowder,  when  I  left  the  old  farm  in  Varmount 
I  never  expected  to  see  anything  like  that!"  declared 
Gallup,  understanding  the  significance  of  the  wink. 
"Looks  considerable  in  color  like  the  gray  colt  dad 
used  to  have.  Drug  me  raound  the  barn  sixteen  times 
once.  I  was  darned  fool  enough  to  tie  the  halter  strap 
to  my  waist  and  try  to  ride  it." 

"Ride  what?"  asked  Rattleton.  "Your  waist  or 
the  strap  ?" 

Gallup  gave  him  an  injured  look. 

"The  gray  colt,  gol  darn  ye!  Ye  know  what  I 
meant  well  enough,  by  gum !" 

"Well,  there's  no  possible  danger  that  can  come  to 
any  one  from  one  of  those  rabbits,"  said  Rattleton, 
addressing  the  crowd,  but  speaking  for  the  benefit  of 
the  Dutch  boy.  "They're  the  most  timid  things  on 
earth." 

"I  know  dot!"  Hans  nodded.  "I  peen  founding, 
some  leetle  rappits  vun  dime,  unt  I  gatch  him  my  hants 
mit  unt,  py  shimminy !  he  vos  most  to  deat*  scat.  Dose 
rappits  vos  nottings  to  peen  afrait  uff  me." 

"And  there  is  nothing  to  make  you  afraid  of  them," 
continued  Rattleton. 

"Dot's  vot  I  say.  Notting  to  make  me  avrait  uff 
mineselluf." 

"I'll  bet  you  anything  that  you  won't  dare  to  go  up 
to  that  thing  and  hub  its  read — I  mean  rub  its  head." 

"I  pet  you  your  life  I  rups  his  heat  unt  his  legs 
uff  I  a  notion  dakes." 

"But  you  won't  take  the  notion!" 


A  "Jack  Rabbit."  95 

"Gol  darned  if  I  don't  believe  that  rabbit  would 
kick  like  a  mule,"  grinned  the  boy  from  Vermont. 

"You  seen  him  rup  me,"  said  Hans,  waddling  off 
the  piazza  and  approaching  the  burro.  "Shust  efery- 
body  stant  pack." 

The  burro  turned  its  ungainly  head,  lifted  its  huge 
ears  and  stared  at  the  Dutch  boy  as  he  approached, 
as  if  wondering  what  he  meant  to  do. 

"See  dot!"  cried  Hans,  putting  his  hands  on  its 
head.  "I  vos  scaret  uf  him  alretty.  You  pet  me,  dis 
shack  rappit  knows  he  is  my  masder." 

"Better  keep  away  from  his  heels,  b'gosh!"  warned 
Gallup. 

"A  rappit  shack  can't  gick!"  cried  Hans.  "Nod 
your  life  on,  he  von't.  He  dot  kind  uf  a  boy  don't 
peen,  alretty  yet." 

He  passed  his  -hands  over  the  burro's  ears  and  along 
its  neck,  then  let  them  slip  down  its  back.  The  burro 
turned  its  head  and  watched  him  with  curious  eyes. 

The  Dutch  boy's  hands  reached  its  legs  and  passed 
toward  its  heels. 

"Id  vos  damer  as  a  sick  kidden !"  he  cried,  delighted 
with  his  success. 

But  his  eyes  opened  wide  as  they  fell  on  the  burro's 
wispy  tail.  Up  to  that  moment  he  had  not  noticed 
its  tail. 

"Py  shimmmy,  a  shack  rappit  must  be  different  as 
a " 

He  stepped  behind  the  burro  and  took  the  tail  in 
his  grasp  for  close  inspection. 

"Be  careful!"  cried  Frank,   starting  forward. 


96  A  "Jack  Rabbit." 

Then  there  was  a  transformation.  The  burro's  un- 
gainly -head  went  down,  its  heels  came  up,  and  Hans 
was  sent  flying  through  the  air.  He  gave  an  aston- 
ished squeal,  and  landed  with  a  jolt  that  jarred  the 
ground. 

Fortunately  he  was  not  much  hurt.  He  had  been 
so  close  to  the  burro  that  its  legs  had  lifted  him,  and 
he  had  not  been  touched  by  its  heels. 

Hans  gave  another  squeal  and  clasped  his  hands  to 
his  sides.  Then  he  sat  up  and  stared  stupidly  around, 
being  somewhat  dazed  by  the  effects  of  the  fall. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas!"  he  squawked.  "Vos  dot  a 
bile-drifer  dot  I  hit?" 

"Look  out,  or  he  will  give  it  to  you  again,"  called 
Rattleton.  "That  rabbit  seems  to  be  as  much  of  a 
kicker  as  a  star  boarder  at  a  summer  hotel." 

Hans  rolled  backward  out  of  the  way  of  the  twin- 
kling heels,  showing  an  agility  that  was  comical. 

"Oxcuse  me !"  he  said,  as  he  crawled  to  his  feet  and 
began  to  dust  his  clothing  and  feel  of  himself  to  see 
that  no  bones  were  broken.  "Dis  rappit  don't  peen 
like  de  little  feller  dot  vos  hunding  me,  vot  you  dolt 
me  apout  avhile  ago.  Oxcuse  me!" 

He  was  beginning  to  see  through  the  joke. 

The  burro  seemed  to  see  through  it,  too,  for  at  that 
moment  it  opened  its  huge  mouth  and  gave  vent  to  a 
"Hee-haw"  that  almost  shook  the  chairs  on  the  piazza. 

"Come."  said  Merriwell,  linking  his  arm  through 
that  of  Bart  Hodge,  "we've  had  our  little  fun,  which, 
fortunately,  did  not  result  seriously,  and  now  let's  take 
the  walk  we  were  talking  about.  You've  hardly  had. 


A  "Jack  Rabbit."  97 

a  look  at  Guthrie  yet.  Any  of  the  rest  of  you  like  a 
stroll?" 

"No,  thank  you,"  yawned  Browning.  "The  shade 
of  this  piazza,  suits  me  very  well.  I  don't  know  about 
to-morrow's  coursing,  if  it  stays  as  hot  as  this." 

"I  don't  think  I  care  to  go,"  announced  Diamond, 
curling  himself  into  one  of  the  easy-chairs. 

The  others  seemed  to  feel  like  Diamond  and  Brown- 
ing, and  Merriwell  and  Hodge  left  them  and  went  for 
a  stroll  through  the  town. 

Everywhere  they  saw  jack  rabbits.  Boys  were 
bringing  them  in  from  the  country  in  baskets,  dust- 
covered  farmers  were  unloading  them  from  their 
wagons.  The  gun  club  had  advertised  for  live  jack 
rabbits  and  were  getting  them  by  the  score. 

"They'll  bu'st  the  jack  rabbit  market,  if  they  keep 
this  up,"  remarked  Bart  Hodge. 

"Or  the  Guthrie  Gun  Club,"  said  Frank,  with  t 
smile. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AN   ENCOUNTER  AND  A   CALL. 

As  Frank  Merriwell  and  Bart  Hodge  were  returning 
from  their  stroll  and  were  passing  up  a  narrow  street 
that  led  in  the  rear  of  the  Traders'  Bank,  they  saw 
Sneed  Parker  coming  toward  them,  accompanied  by  a 
pretty  girl,  whom  they  felt  sure  was  Alice  Dean. 

They  had  been  talking  of  Parker. 

"Speak  of  the  devil  and  you  will  see  one  of  his 
imps,"  said  Hodge. 

"And  speak  of  angels  and  you'll  hear  the  flutter  of 
wings,"  observed  Merriwell. 

"Yes,  she  is  pretty,"  Hodge  declared.  Then,  as 
she  came  nearer,  he  added : 

"As  pretty  as  a  picture,  by  Jove !  It  makes  me  want 
to  punch  the  head  of  that  fellow,  to  see  him  walking 
with  so  handsome  a  girl,  just  as  if  he  had  a  right." 

Across  the  street,  on  a  vacant  lot,  two  Cheyenne 
half-breeds,  known  respectively  as  Indian  Joe  and 
Jimmy  Crookleg,  were  camped.  The  half-breeds  had 
been  in  Guthrie  two  or  three  weeks,  living  on  this 
lot  in  a  prairie  schooner  that  had  a  distressingly  dirty 
canvas  covering.  They  were  horse  traders,  having 
several  fine  animals  picketed  on  the  lot.  Besides  this, 
they  made  headdresses  and  rude  bows  and  arrows, 
which  they  sold  to  whoever  would  buy. 

As  Sneed  Parker  and  the  girl  drew  near,  Indian 


An  Encounter  and  a  Call.  99 

Joe,  the  larger  and  more  repulsive  of  the  half-breeds, 
reeled  across  the  street.  It  was  plain  he  had  been 
"hoisting  in"  the  white  man's  firewater  pretty  freely, 
and  was  ready  for  any  sort  of  mischief. 

Bart  Hodge  caught  Merriwell  by  the  arm. 

"That  rascal  has  got  a  demon  in  his  eye,"  he  said. 
"If  he  speaks  to  that  girl,  I  hope  Sneed  Parker  will 
knock  him  down." 

"So  do  I,"  responded  Frank.  "But  I  don't  believe 
the  half-breed  will  dare  to  speak  to  her." 

"He  won't?"  growled  Hodge.     "Just  look  at  that!" 

As  the  girl  drew  near  the  half-breed,  looking  at  him 
askance  and  fearfully,  he  moved  toward  her,  with  his 
arms  outspread  as  if  he  meant  to  take  her  in  his  em- 
brace. He  was  not  a  dozen  feet  from  Merriwell  and 
Hodge  at  the  time. 

Instead  of  doing  as  Merriwell  and  Hodge  hoped, 
Sneed  Parker  seemed  to  be  afraid  of  Indian  Joe.  He 
drew  back,  pulling  at  the  girl's  arm. 

The  girl  screamed  in  fright. 

Parker's  action  was  so  unexpected  and  altogether 
pusillanimous  that  Merriwell  and  Hodge  were  amazed. 

"This  way,"  they  heard  Parker  say.  "We'll  avoid 
him  by  going  into  the  bank  through  the  back  entrance." 

Parker  was  evidently  perplexed  and  angered.  Frank 
Merriwell  was  perplexed  and  indignant.  He  did  not 
believe  Parker  was  a  coward,  and  he  could  not  under- 
stand his  present  course. 

"That  fellow  has  a  good  reason  for  being  afraid  of 
the  half-breed,"  was  Merriwell's  thought.  "I  won- 
der if  there  can  be  anything  between  them  ?" 


ioo          An  Encounter  and  a  Call. 

The  girl  stood  still,  thoroughly  frightened,  and 
Parker  then  pushed  forward,  still  holding  her  by  the 
arm,  and  began  to  speak  to  the  half-breed  as  if  he 
would  argue  with  him. 

"Stand  back!"  roared  Indian  Joe,  in  thickened  tones. 

The  accent  was  something  of  a  revelation  to  Frank. 
He  had  dickered  with  Indian  Joe  that  forenoon  for  a 
quilled  war-bonnet,  and  Joe  had  pretended  not  to  be 
able  to  speak  much  English. 

The  girl  released  herself  from  Parker's  grasp  and 
ran  toward  Merriwell  and  Hodge,  as  if  by  some  in- 
stinct she  divined  that  they  would  protect  her  at  the 
risk  of  their  lives  if  need  be. 

Without  an  instant's  hesitation  Frank  stepped  in  be- 
tween her  and  Indian  Joe. 

"Stand  back!"  Indian  Joe  roared  again. 

But  -he  halted  irresolutely  when  he  saw  Merriwell's 
firm  stand,  though  he  glowered  and  clinched  his  fists. 

"Walk  up — walk  up  and  I'll  take  pleasure  in  knock- 
ing you  down,"  said  Frank,  laughing  so  lightly  that 
Indian  Joe  was  not  sure  whether  the  words  were  spoken 
in  sober  earnest  or  not. 

He  found  out  before  he  was  a  minute  older. 

He  sought  to  shoulder  Merriwell  aside  and  reach 
the  girl.  Then  Merriwell's  fist  shot  out  with  light- 
ning-like quickness. 

Whack — the  blow  fell  with  stunning  force  on  the 
half-breed's  jaw.  It  seemed  fairly  to  lift  him  into 
the  air.  He  spun  half  around,  sought  to  recover  him- 
self, then  struck  the  ground  with  a  mighty  jolt. 

At  the  same  instant  Merriwdl  heard  Hodge  cry: 


An  Encounter  and  a  Call.  101 

"Take  that,  you  red  scoundrel!" 

Bart,  who  was  standing  ready  to  assist  Frank  if  his 
aid  was  needed,  had  been  attacked  from  the  rear  by 
Jimmy  Crookleg,  Indian  Joe's  partner. 

Hodge's  blow  was  not  very  effective,  for  Jimmy 
Crookleg  danced  backward  to  get  out  of  the  way  as 
it  fell.  Now  Merriwell  saw  Crookleg  make  a  dash 
at  Bart  with  a  knife. 

"Look  out !"  Frank  warned. 

Hodge  deftly  avoided  Crookleg's  rush,  then  struck 
the  half-breed's  knife  arm  so  violently  that  the  bone 
almost  snapped  and  the  knife  went  spinning  halfway 
across  the  street.  Crookleg  roared  with  rage  and 
pain  as  his  arm  dropped  helplessly  at  his  side. 

Indian  Joe  was  trying  to  get  on  his  feet.  Merri- 
well saw  the  effort,  but  turned  about,  nevertheless,  to 
speak  a  reassuring  word  to  the  girl. 

To  his  surprise  he  saw  Sneed  Parker  leading  her 
tremblingly  to  the  doorway  which  led  into  the  bank 
from  this  street  Her  cheeks  were  as  white  as  ashes, 
Merriwell  noticed,  when  she  reached  the  doorway  and 
turned  toward  him.  She  tried  to  smile  her  thanks. 
Then  Parker  drew  -her  into  the  corridor  and  shut  the 
door  with  a  bang. 

Merriwell  turned  to  Indian  Joe. 

The  half-breed  had  staggered  to  his  feet  and  stood 
sullenly  glaring  at  Merriwell.  The  blow  and  the  fall 
had  somewhat  sobered  him  and  taken  out  of  him  all 
desire  to  fight.  But  the  deep  hate  revealed  in  his  glit- 
tering black  eyes  was  an  unpleasant  thing  to  contem- 
plate. 


IO2  An  Encounter  and  a  Call. 

"By  the  way  you  are  staring  at  me  I  don't  doubt 
you'll  know  me  when  you  see  me  again,"  said  Merri- 
\vell,  lightly.  "I  give  you  fair  warning,  though,  that 
if  I  ever  catch  you  trying  any  of  your  tricks  on  me  you 
will  drop  a  great  deal  harder  than  you  did  this  time." 

Two  or  three  men  came  rushing  up  the  street  as  if 
in  anticipation  of  a  fight.  The  entire  affair  had  really 
occupied  only  a  few  seconds  of  time. 

" W-hat's  the  matter  ?"  one  of  the  men  panted,  as  he 
drew  near. 

"This  fellow  has  been  drinking  and  was  inclined  to 
be  ugly,"  responded  Merriwell. 

Jimmy  Crookleg  had  recovered  his  knife  and  was 
retreating  across  the  street. 

"He  attacked  you,  did  he?"  the  man  asked. 

"No,  he  didn't  attack  me  exactly.  I  didn't  give 
him  a  chance." 

"Then  there  wasn't  any  fight.  I  thought  there  must 
have  been  a  fight." 

Others  were  arriving.  Merriwell  had  no  desire  to 
go  before  the  police  court  of  Guthrie  as  a  witness 
against  the  half-breeds,  and  he  turned  to  Hodge. 

"I  guess  they  won't  trouble  us  any  further,  eh, 
Bart?" 

"I  think  not,"  said  Hodge,  looking  at  Crookleg. 

"Then  we'd  better  be  going." 

Arm  in  arm,  they  walked  away  from  the  gathering 
crowd,  beginning  to  talk  of  Sneed  Parker  and  the  girl 
as  soon  as  they  felt  safe  to  do  so. 

"I  don't  understand  it,"  declared  Merriwell.  "That 
was  dastardly  conduct." 


An  Encounter  and  a  Call.  103 

"And  such  a  stunningly  handsome  girl,  too,"  said 
Hodge. 

Merriwell  smiled  and  gave  his  friend  a  sidelong 
glance. 

"Yes,  she  is  pretty." 

Tretty!"  exclaimed  Hodge.  "She  is  one  of  the 
handsomest  girls  I  ever  saw." 

A  few  hours  later,  when  a  note  came  from  Alice 
Dean,  thanking  Merriwell  and  his  friend  for  their  brave 
conduct  and  inviting  them  to  call  on  her  at  her  father's 
residence,  it  seemed  to  Merriwell  too  bad  that  Bart 
Hodge  should  be  out  of  town. 

Bart,  at  the  special  invitation  of  another  Yale  man, 
who  had  settled  in  Guthrie,  had  driven  out  into  the 
country  in  the  cool  of  the  late  afternoon  and  was 
not  expected  back  for  several  hours. 

"I  will  make  the  call  for  both  of  us,"  thought  Mer- 
riwell, as  he  left  the  hotel  and  bent  his  steps  toward 
the  house  pointed  out  to  him  as  the  residence  of  the 
bank  cashier,  Silas  Dean,  "but  I  wish  Bart  were  here 
to  go  with  me.  He  is  rather  taken  with  the  girl  and 
he  would  enjoy  it.  She  is  confoundedly  pretty!" 

Merriwell  found  Alice  Dean  a  girl  without  affecta- 
tion. She  greeted  him  warmly,  but  not  gushingly, 
and  thanked  him  in  a  way  that  made  him  feel  almost 
like  a  hero.  But  she  said  nothing  about  Dr.  Sneed 
Parker,  which  Merriwell  thought  rather  singular,  to 
say  the  least. 

"I  am  very  sorry  your  friend  was  not  able  to  come 
with  you,"  she  declared,  and  Merriwell  could  see  that 
she  meant  it.  "I  hope  I  shall  meet  him  before  your 


IO4  An  Encounter  and  a  Call. 

party  leaves.  No  doubt  I  shall,  too,  for  I  expect  to 
take  part  in  the  sports  of  the  gun  club." 

"Do  you  shoot?"  Merriwell  asked,  in  surprise. 

"Oh,  yes ;  and  ride,  too.  I  am  an  honorary  member 
of  the  gun  club,  you  know.  Father  is  a  member." 

Merriwell  wished  more  than  ever  that  Bart  Hodge 
was  with  him. 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  to  introduce  you  to  Mr. 
Hodge,"  he  asserted.  "He  is  a  pretty  nice  fellow,  and 
I  am  sure  he  will  be  pleased  to  meet  you.  It's  too  bad 
he  went  out  of  town." 

He  was  thinking  more  and  more  what  a  handsome 
girl  Alice  Dean  was.  She  had  blue  eyes  and  brown 
hair  and  plump,  rosy  cheeks,  and  was  dressed  most  be- 
comingly in  some  dark  material  whose  somberness  was 
relieved  by  knots  of  blue  ribbon. 

While  they  talked  the  minutes  sped  by  as  if  shod 
with  wings,  and  when  Frank  looked  at  his  watcri. 
thinking  perhaps  it  was  time  to  go,  he  was  astonished 
to  see  now  late  it  was. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  DEED  OF  A  RASCAL. 

About  an  hour  before  dawn  a  stealthy  figure  stole 
up  to  the  door  of  the  stable  where  the  greyhounds 
were  kept.  It  was  Dr.  Sneed  Parker. 

"I'll  make  that  fellow  Merriwell  wish  he  had  let  me 
alone,  before  he  gets  out  of  this  town,"  he  hissed,  as 
he  passed  his  hand  softly  over  the  door. 

"Locked !"  he  muttered,  in  a  tone  of  disappointment. 

Then  he  started  and  peered  suspiciously  about  in 
the  darkness. 

"I  suppose  it  is  the  proper  thing  for  them  to  lock 
the  door  of  a  place  where  valuable  hounds  are  kept," 
he  mused,  "but  I  hardly  thought  they'd  do  it.  I  hope 
the  stable  isn't  watched.  I  shouldn't  want  the  fellow 
to  catch  me  in  here.  My  neck  burns  yet  from  the  cut 
of  the  whip.  Ha!  what  was  that?" 

He  drew  back,  crowding  close  against  the  door. 

In  another  moment  he  was  ready  to  laugh  at  the 
cause  of  his  alarm,  for  it  was  only  a  cat  stealing 
through  the  gloom  with  velvety  feet. 

"I'll  try  the  back  way,"  was  his  thought 

Moving  softly  around  to  the  back  of  the  stable, 
Sneed  Parker  found  a  window  which  he  was  able  to 
slide,  and  with  some  difficulty  -he  squeezed  through  the 
opening. 


io6  The  Deed  of  a  Rascal. 

"Down!"  he  whispered,  as  some  of  the  dogs  began 
to  move  and  whine,  "down  with  you !" 

"Merriwell's  hounds  were  in  the  farther  end,"  he  re- 
flected, "and  I  suppose  they  are  there  still." 

When  he  reached  the  point  he  drew  a  match  and 
scratched  it  softly  on  his  leg.  It  spluttered  and  leaped 
into  a  blaze,  and  by  the  light  he  saw  Merriwell's  dogs 
in  the  corner  in  close  proximity  with  some  others. 
They  were  handsome  animals,  with  long  legs,  deep 
chests  and  noses  like  spear  points.  One  was  black  and 
the  other  grayish,  and  they  were  nearly  of  a  size. 

Parker  dropped  the  flaming  match  and  extinguished 
it  with  his  foot,  then  stood  still  for  a  minute  or  more, 
listening  carefully,  to  be  sure  that  the  light  had  not 
attracted  attention. 

"I  reckon  I'd  have  to  set  the  stable  on  fire  to  waken 
those  fellows,"  he  thought,  with  an  ear  still  cocked 
toward  the  hotel. 

The  hounds  were  moving  uneasily  and  whimper- 
ing all  about  him.  His  own  dogs  had  slunk  back  at 
sight  of  him  as  if  they  feared  a  beating,  and  a  general 
feeling  of  fear  and  uneasiness  pervaded  the  stable. 

Satisfied  that  no  -human  eye  was  on  him  and  that 
no  human  ear  had  heard  him,  Sneed  Parker  pulled  a 
piece  of  needle  from  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  It  was 
half  of  a  needle — the  sharpened  point. 

With  this  in  his  right  hand  -he  stepped  quickly  into 
the  corner,  ran  his  left  hand  down  over  the  trembling 
body  of  one  of  the  hounds,  and  with  a  quick  jab  in- 
serted the  piece  of  steel  deep  into  the  fleshy  part  of 
the  hound's  thigh. 


The  Deed  of  a  Rascal.  107 

The  dog  jumped  and  gave  a  yelp  of  pain. 

"Down!"  Parker  whispered,  "down,  sir!" 

A  quiver  of  excitement  ran  through  the  stable. 
The  hounds  whined  louder  and  moved  more  uneasily. 

"Down!"  he  again  commanded — "down,  I  tell  you!" 

He  drew  from  the  lapel  the  pointed  half  of  another 
needle,  dropped  his  hand  to  the  other  dog  in  the  corner, 
ran  his  fingers  softly  over  its  legs,  and  jabbed  the 
steel  into  the  thigh  with  a  quick  movement,  just  as  he 
had  done  before. 

The  hound  yelped. 

"Stop  that!"  he  whispered. 

Then  he  stood  erect  beside  the  half-crying  hounds 
and  listened  again. 

"The  thing  is  done,"  he  thought,  with  a  revengeful 
thrill.  "If  Frank  Merriwell  wins  any  points  with  his 
hounds  to-day  it  will  be  a  miracle." 

The  excitement  among  the  dogs  was  increasing. 
Those  nearest  the  door  were  lunging  against  it,  as  if 
trying  to  get  out. 

A  footstep  sounded  outside  and  a  thrill  of  fear  went 
through  Parker.  This  was  followed  by  the  swinging 
open  of  the  door  and  the  flash  of  a  lantern. 

Parker  retreated  against  the  wall  and  stood  glaring 
at  the  lantern  and  the  dimly-seen  form  behind  it.  His 
\eart  thumped  like  a  trip  hammer. 

"Pshaw!"  he  muttered.  "Why  should  I  be  afraid? 
My  dogs  are  in  here,  and  I  -have  as  much  right  to  enter 
the  stable  as  that  fellow,  if  I  want  to." 

But  he  crowded  closer  against  the  wall  and  his  un- 
easiness increased  when  he  saw  the  lantern  and  the 


io8  The  Deed  of  a  Rascal. 

man  coming  toward  him.  He  could  not  see  the  man's 
face. 

Parker's  right  hand  stole  softly  to  the  pocket  in 
which  he  habitually  carried  a  revolver. 

"If  he  corners  me,"  he  grated,  through  his  set  teeth, 
"I'll  make  it  interesting  for  him." 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  light  of  the  lantern, 
throwing  its  circle  of  rays  out  in  front  like  a  fan, 
while  Sneed  Parker,  with  set  teeth  and  glaring  eyes, 
waited  with  hand  on  his  revolver. 

The  dogs  were  whinng  anxiously,  and  some  of  them 
were  leaping  against  the  man's  legs  as  if  they  recog- 
nized him  as  a  friend. 

"By  Jove!  it's  Merriwell!"  thought  Parker,  with  a 
thrill  of  fear. 

Then  the  man  spoke  and  the  blood  retreated  from 
Parker's  heart  in  a  great  surge. 

It  was  not  Merriwell,  but  the  keeper  of  the  stable. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  asked,  speaking  to  the 
dogs.  "I  thought  I  heard  you  yelping.  Not  fighting, 
I  hope?  Keep  your  paws  off  me,  Victor.  There, 
keep  down,  won't  you?" 

Parker  still  stood  in  the  darkness,  with  blazing  eyes 
and  his  hand  on  his  weapon.  He  was  relieved  to  know 
that  the  man  was  not  Merriwell,  but  the  thought  of 
discovery  was  still  a  terror  to  him. 

The  light  of  the  lantern  drew  nearer  and  yet  nearer. 
It  fell  on  his  feet.  He  was  sure  that  in  another  mo- 
ment he  would  be  discovered,  and  was  nerving  him- 
self for  whatever  should  come. 


The  Deed  of  a  Rascal.  109 

But  the  man  turned  aside,  and  passed  to  the  other 
end  of  the  stable,  still  talking  to  the  dogs. 

Parker  was  shaking  like  a  leaf. 

"Heavens !"  he  sighed.  "I  was  ready  for  something 
desperate  just  then.  It's  a  good  thing  he  didn't  come 
any  closer.  Now,  if  he  doesn't  discover  that  window, 
which  I  was  fool  enough  to  leave  open,  and  will  go  on 
and  out  about  his  business!" 

It  seemed  for  a  minute  that  the  man  would  certainly 
see  the  open  window,  but  he  did  not,  and  finally  left 
the  stable,  closing  the  door  after  him  and  locking  it. 

Not  until  he  was  outside  and  his  footsteps  had  died 
away  did  Sneed  Parker  venture  to  breathe  freely. 

"Now  I  must  get  out  of  this  as  quickly  as  I  can," 
he  muttered.  "I  wouldn't  be  caught  in  here  at  this 
time  of  night  for  a  fortune." 

Then  he  walked  tremblingly  to  the  window,  crawled 
softly  through  it,  and,  after  fastening  it  as  he  had 
found  it,  slipped  away  as  stealthily  as  he  had  come. 

When,  after  daybreak,  the  dogs  were  brought  out 
of  the  stable  for  the  races  of  the  day,  there  was  nothing 
to  show  that  they  had  been  tampered  with.  The  deed 
had  been  done  so  recently  that  little  if  any  inflamma- 
tion had  taken  place.  A  number  of  the  hounds  that 
had  'been  brought  by  rail  from  a  distance  were  some- 
what stiff,  and  the  fact  that  Merriwell's  were  in  the 
same  condition  excited  no  suspicion  of  foul  play.  The 
insertion  of  the  needle  points  had  not  drawn  blood  or 
left  any  marks. 

Frank  was  proud  of  his  hounds.  They  were  such 
fine-looking,  intelligent  creatures.  They  leaped  and 


no  The  Deed  of  a  Rascal. 

frisked  about  him  and  his  friends,  and  were  apparently 
as  fond  of  him  as  if  he  had  owned  them  from  their 
puppyhood. 

The  members  and  honorary  members  of  the  Guthrie 
Gun  Club  were  gathered  in  the  street  in  front  of  the 
Oklahoma  Hotel.  Miss  Alice  Dean  was  there, 
mounted  on  a  spirited  horse.  She  seemed  to  have  re- 
covered entirely  from  the  fright  of  the  previous  day. 
Her  cheeks  were  flushed  with  health  and  her  eyes  were 
bright  and  laughing.  She  wore  a  riding  habit  with  a 
short  skirt,  which  wonderfully  became  her. 

"Permit  me  to  introduce  you  to  my  friend,  Mr. 
Hartley  Hodge,"  said  Merriwell,  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. "Mr.  Hodge,  Miss  Dean." 

All  were  mounted.  As  he  lifted  his  hat  to  acknowl- 
edge the  introduction,  Bart's  horse  shied  and  came 
near  throwing  him.  He  bit  his  lips  in  vexation. 

"I  am  very  happy  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Hodge,"  Alice  Dean  declared,  as  soon  as  Bart  was  able 
to  rein  in  his  horse,  "and  to  thank  you  for  coming  so 
promptly  to  my  defense  yesterday.  I  regretted  that 
you  were  not  able  to  accept  my  invitation  of  last  even- 
ing." 

"I  was  unfortunately  out  of  town,"  said  Hodge,  in- 
wardly raging  and  with  a  very  red  face. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Merriwell  so  informed  me.  We  will 
likely  have  a  nice  day  for  the  coursing.  I  hope  you 
and  your  friends  may  enjoy  it.  It  is  something  new 
to  all  of  you,  I  believe.  I  understood  Mr.  Merriwell 
to  say  so." 


The  Deed  of  a  Rascal.  in 

"Yes,"  answered  Hodge.  "Entirely  new.  I  don't 
doubt  we  shall  enjoy  it  very  much." 

He  knew  his  face  was  as  red  as  a  beet  and  he  was 
glad  when  his  horse  shied  again  and  brought  the  talk 
to  an  abrupt  close. 

"Mr.  Merriwell !"  he  grunted  to  himself.  "It's  Mr. 
Merriwell  and  Mr.  Merriwell  every  other  sentence!" 

Bart  was  vexed  and  annoyed  more  than  he  would 
have  cared  to  confess.  He  had  been  in  one  of  his  sul- 
len moods  all  the  morning.  Nothing  had  seemed  to 
go  just  right  with  him.  He  had  not  liked  his  bed  nor 
his  breakfast,  and  now  he  was  fuming  against  Merri- 
well and  against  his  horse. 

The  truth  is  that  Bart  was  jealous.  Merriwell  ap- 
peared to  be  standing  entirely  too  well  in  the  estima- 
tion of  Alice  Dean. 

"Nobody  has  any  show  when  Merry  is  around,"  he 
grumbled.  "He  is  just  naturally  the  luckiest  dog 
alive.  It  fell  on  him  to  take  the  most  prominent  part 
in  .defending  her  yesterday,  and  luck  kept  him  at  the 
hotel  and  took  me  away  when  that  invitation  came,  and 
now  I'm  on  a  horse  that's  bound  to  make  a  fool  of 
me  at  every  opportunity.  I  wish  we  had  never  heard 
of  the  Guthrie  Gun  Club." 

Every  one  else  seemed  to  be  having  a  good  time, 
however.  The  hounds  were  leaping  and  running. 
There  was  laughter  and  banter  and  jest.  Rattleton  and 
Browning,  Toots  and  Gallup,  Dunnerwust  and  Bar- 
ney Mulloy,  and  all  the  others  were  in  high  feather. 
Hodge  only  was  discontented  and  petulant. 


112  The  Deed  of  a  Rascal. 

The  jack  rabbits  were  in  boxes  in  light  wagons,  and 
before  the  sun  was  an  hour  high,  the  Guthrie  Gun  Club 
and  its  guests,  with  others  who  desired  to  witness  the 
sport,  were  off  for  the  point  selected  for  the  coursing. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

JACK   RABBIT    COURSING. 

At  the  start  Merriwell  permitted  his  hounds  to  run 
and  frolic  as  much  as  they  liked,  thinking  the  exercise 
would  only  limber  them  up  and  put  them  in  trim  for 
the  work  before  them.  But  when  one  of  them,  and 
the  one  he  considered  the  finer,  began  to  show  signs 
of  lameness,  he  called  them  in  and  kept  them  well  at 
heel. 

There  was  one  thing  that  surprised  Merriwell,  while 
it  pleased  him.  Sneed  Parker,  though  he  was  one  of 
the  party,  did  not  venture  to  speak  to  Alice  Dean.  Nor 
did  he  ride  at  her  side,  as  Merriwell  had  anticipated. 

"They  are  at  outs,"  was  his  conclusion.  "She  has 
cut  him  for  his  conduct  of  yesterday.  That's  good. 
If  our  coming  here  separates  those  two  it  will  be  one 
of  the  best  things  that  ever  happened." 

He  spoke  of  it  to  Bart  Hodge. 

"I've  noticed  that,"  said  Hodge,  in  a  tone  that  made 
Frank  gave  him  a  close  look.  "It  will  give  you  a  better 
show,  Merry." 

The  place  selected  for  the  coursing  was  well  adapted 
to  the  purpose.  It  was  a  level  stretch  of  country,  cov- 
ered with  short  grass,  and  without  gully  or  ravine, 
save  on  the  south,  where  there  was  unbroken  land  and 
some  hills. 


ii4  Jack  Rabbit  Coursing. 

"See  how  eager  for  work  the  hounds  are,"  exclaimed 
Merriwell. 

"Makes  me  glad  I'm  not  a  hound,"  grunted  Bruce 
Browning,  wiping  his  heated  face.  "I'd  hate  to  -have 
tc  run  in  such  weather  as  this." 

"Not  if  you  were  a  hound,"  said  Rattleton. 

"Yah,  yah!"  laughed  Toots.  "If  Mistah  Brown- 
ing war  a  hound  dawg  he'd  mek  a  mighty  po'  show. 
He  couldn't  run  no  mo'n  a  mud  turkle." 

T-he  coursing  was  to  be  for  points.  Hence  it  was 
not  always  the  fastest  dog  that  was  considered  the  best. 
The  dog  that  got  over  the  ground  with  the  greatest 
ease  and  grace,  that  turned  quickest,  that  leaped  clean 
and  true,  might  outrival  a  dog  that,  on  a  straightaway 
heat,  could  beat  it  out  of  sight. 

A  big  jack  rabbit,  with  long,  limber  legs,  was  taken 
out  of  a  box  and  placed  on  the  ground  some  distance 
in  front  of  the  dogs  that  were  to  chase  it.  Not  all  of 
the  dogs  were  allowed  to  run  at  the  same  time.  Two 
or  three,  and  sometimes  more,  were  chosen,  for  the 
jack  is  great  at  dodging,  and  will  often  get  away  from 
a.  hound  by  reason  of  its  ability  in  that  line. 

The  other  dogs  were  held  in  leash.  All  the  riders 
who  desired  to  follow  the  hounds  were  in  their  sad- 
dles ready  for  the  fun. 

The  jack  rabbit  crouched  for  a  moment  in  the  grass. 
Then,  discovering  that  it  was  really  at  liberty,  it  hopped 
away,  going  slowly  at  first. 

Frank  Merriwell  looked  about  'him.  Alice  Dean 
was  sitting  erect  in  her  saddle,  with  rein  held  lightly, 


Jack  Rabbit  Coursing.  115 

her  bright  eyes  fixed  on  the  rabbit.  Near  her  were 
her  father  and  some  lady  friends. 

"There  they  go!"  shouted  Rattleton. 

The  hounds,  two  of  them,  put  in  for  this  first  race, 
were  off  after  the  rabbit. 

The  jack  heard  them  coming,  lifted  himself  for  a 
moment  on  his  long  hind  legs,  observed  the  dogs  com- 
ing and  the  horsemen  breaking  into  a  canter,  then  got 
down  to  the  work  that  was  cut  out  for  -him.  He 
seemed  to  understand  that  a  greyhound  runs  by  sight 
and  not  by  scent,  and  that  his  best  course  was  to  strike 
for  the  broken  country  southward. 

In  another  minute  he  was  a  gray  streak  flashing  over 
the  short  grass  with  the  hounds  racing  after  him  in  a 
way  to  call  forth  cheers  from  the  veteran  sportsmen  of 
the  gun  club. 

"It's  a  pretty  sight,"  cried  Merriwell.  "Just  look 
at  those  hounds,  will  you !" 

Even  Browning  was  stirred  into  enthusiasm,  and 
swung  his  hat  as  he  set  his  horse  into  motion. 

The  hounds  were  running  swiftly  and  easily.  They 
did  not  really  seem  to  be  going  as  fast  as  they  were. 
With  their  noses  thrust  straight  out  before  them  and 
their  long  legs  in  motion,  their  bodies  seemed  to  open 
and  shut  like  jackknives. 

The  rabbit  developed  a  phenomenal  burst  of  speed. 
His  leaps,  made  with  lightning-like  quickness,  were 
something  tremendous.  He  drew  away  from  the  dogs 
at  first,  and  it  seemed  he  would  be  able  to  reach  the 
broken  land  without  difficulty.  The  ^ttering  of  the 


H 6  Jack  Rabbit  Coursing. 

hoofs  of  the  running  horses  and  the  cries  of  the  sports- 
men gave  wings  to  his  feet. 

But  the  lean,  reddish-colored  hound,  that  from  the 
first  had  shown  itself  a  good  runner,  began  to  gain  on 
the  rabbit,  creeping  up  inch  by  inch  and  foot  by  foot. 

The  cheers  grew  louder  and  wilder,  and  the  horses 
were  spurred  into  swifter  pursuit. 

"Land  ob  wartermillions !"  roared  Toots,  clinging  to 
the  saddle-horn  with  both  hands,  while  his  bridle  rein 
swung  free,  "dis  yeh  spo't  beats  foxhuntin'  clean  out 
ob  sight." 

As  he  said  it,  the  rein  slipped  farther  down,  and  was 
caught  by  one  of  the  horse's  forefeet. 

Snap! — it  was  broken  instantly. 

The  horse  was  jerked  quickly  around,  and  Toots, 
losing  his  grip  of  the  saddle-horn,  went  over  its  ears, 
plowing  up  a  yard  or  two  of  grass  and  earth  with  his 
hard  head  as  he  landed. 

Merriwell  saw  the  mishap  and  reined  in,  but  Toots 
was  already  scrambling  up  and  needed  no  assistance. 

When  he  looked  again  Merriwell  saw  that  the  rab- 
bit had  dodged  and  was  once  more  drawing  away 
from  the  hounds. 

A  minute  later  it  gained  the  broken  country,  where 
it  was  comparatively  safe,  and  the  dogs  were  called  off. 

Toots'  horse  was  caught  for  him  by  a  member  of  the 
club,  and  the  entire  party,  laughing  and  joking,  took 
its  way  back  to  the  starting  point,  where  other  hounds 
and  other  rabbits  were  awaiting  them. 

"By  thutter,  I  kiner  thought  yeou'd  got  a  ticket  plum 
through  to  the  South  Pole  when  I  saw  yeou  sailin* 


Jack  Rabbit  Coursing.  117 

through  the  air  that  way,"  grinned  the  boy  from  Ver- 
mont, when  Toots  was  again  in  the  saddle  and  ready 
for  the  fray.  "I  did,  by  chaowder!  Next  time  I'd 
advise  ye  to  take  holt  with  yeour  teeth." 

"I  thought  he  was  going  to  cave  in  the  coursing 
ground  and  spoil  all  the  sport,"  laughed  Rattleton. 
"I  say,  fellows,  why  is  that  rabbit  like  the  Guthrie 
Gun  Club?" 

"Because  it's  a  hummer,"  laughed  Frank. 

"Because  it  is  a  product  of  the  country,"  guessed 
Browning. 

"Both  wrong." 

"Give  it  up,  then,"  said  Merriwell. 

"Because  it's  out  of  sight!" 

"Thank  you  for  the  compliment!"  chimed  in  Alice 
Dean,  with  one  of  her  prettiest  smiles.  "Really,  Mr. 
Rattleton,  you  ought  to  join  our  literary  club  and  be- 
come a  writer  of  jokes." 

One  of  Merriwell's  hounds  was  to  be  pitted  against 
a  hound  belonging  to  a  gentlemen  from  El  Reno, 
Frank  noticed  that  the  dog  limped  as  it  came  up,  and 
he  began  to  fear  it  would  not  be  the  runner  he  hoped. 
It  was  the  one  he  thought  the  faster  of  the  two  he  had 
bought. 

The  rabbit  and  the  dogs  started  off  in  good  shape, 
but  before  MerriweH's  dog  had  run  two  hundred  yards 
its  lameness  was  seen  to  increase.     At  the  end  of  half  / 
a  mile  it  dropped  back  till  every  one  could  see  it  had 
not  the  ghost  of  a  show  to  gain  a  single  point. 

"I  don't  understand  that,"  Frank  declared,  speak- 
ing to  Diamond,  as  they  rode  side  by  side.  "You  will 


!i8  Jack  Rabbit  Coursing. 

remember  that  dog  was  recommended  to  me  as  being 
the  fastest  dog  in  the  State  of  Texas,  and  by  a  man 
I  know  to  be  reliable.  He  has  hurt  himself  some 
way." 

"I  noticed  a  small  lump  on  the  side  of  -his  right 
thigh,"  answered  Diamond,  "but  I  didn't  think  to 
speak  of  it.  Perhaps  he  ran  into  that  barbed  wire  fence 
along  the  road  as  we  came  out.  Plainly  he  is  not  in 
condition." 

The  other  hound  crowded  the  jack  rabbit  so  closely 
that  the  latter  would  have  -had  no  show  at  all  if  Merri- 
•well's  hound  had  been  close  enough  to  checkmate  it  in 
its  dodging.  As  it  was,  the  rabbit  ran  and  dodged 
so  cleverly,  that,  like  the  first,  it  gained  the  broken 
country  and  escaped. 

When  they  were  again  at  the  starting  point,  Merri- 
well  got  down,  and,  with  Diamond,  examined  the 
hound's  thigh. 

Dr.  Sneed  Parker  sat  on  his  horse  a  few  yards  away 
and  watched  them  uneasily. 

As  Diamond  said,  there  was  a  bunch  on  the  dog's 
thigh.  The  hair  was  slightly  wet,  showing  a  puncture, 
and  when  Merriwell  pressed  on  the  bunch  with  his 
fingers  a  small  quantity  of  bloody  fluid  oozed  out. 

Frank  drew  his  hand  away  and  something  clung  to 
it.  He  looked  at  it  closely.  It  was  the  broken  half 
of  a  needle. 

Diamond  glanced  at  him  significantly  and  whis- 
pered : 

"That  didn't  happen  by  accident,  Merry.  Do  you 
know  what  I  think?" 


Jack  Rabbit  Coursing.  119 

"I  might  guess." 

"That  was  the  work  of  Sneed  Parker." 

'Then  the  other  hound  may  be  in  the  same  condi- 
tion," said  Frank. 

"Perhaps.     Call  him  and  we  will  see." 

Another  rabbit  was  being  taken  from  one  of  the 
boxes.  Merriwell  whistled  to  the  dog,  and  it  limped 
as  it  came  toward  him. 

"We  are  done  up,"  he  groaned.  "My  dogs  won't 
be  able  to  win  a  single  point." 

Merriwell  examined  the  hound  carefully. 

"I  don't  see  anything,"  he  said.  "Its  legs  and 
thighs  seem  to  be  all  right.  What  made  it  limp?" 

Diamond  lifted  one  of  its  hind  feet  and  pulled  some- 
thing from  between  the  toes. 

"Just  a  burr,"  he  declared.  "The  dog  is  all  right. 
I  don't  believe  he  will  limp  any  more,  and  we've  still 
got  a  fighting  chance.  I  know  something  about 
hounds,  and  I  tell  you  this  fellow  can  run.  I  would 
be  willing  to  bet  money  on  him." 

Sneed  Parker  rode  past  at  that  moment  for  the  ap- 
parent purpose  of  getting  into  line  with  the  other  horse- 
men. He  caught  a  little  of  what  Diamond  said  and 
saw  the  'burr  in  Diamond's  hands. 

His  tallowy  face  grew  ghastly  white. 

"Heavens!"  he  muttered.  "Did  I  get  hold  of  the 
wrong  dog  last  night?  It  begins  to  look  that  way." 

That  was  just  what  Dr.  Sneed  Parker  had  done. 
In  the  darkness  he  had  stabbed  one  of  the  needle  points 
into  the  thigh  of  one  of  the  other  dogs  huddled  in  the 
corner  at  the  side  of  Merriwell's,  and  it  began  to  seern 


\ 

1 20  Jack  Rabbit  Coursing. 

that  he  might  gain  nothing  after  all  for  the  great  risk 
he  had  run. 

Merriwell's  hound  and  the  hound  from  El  Reno  were 
put  in  place,  and  the  rabbit  was  released. 

It  leaped  straightaway,  taking  to  the  open  country, 
and  then  circling  back  toward  the  hills. 

The  hounds  sprang  in  pursuit,  and  the  horsemen  fol- 
lowed, riding  hard  on  the  heels  of  the  dogs. 

It  was  a  run  to  thrill  the  blood  and  set  every  nerve 
a-tingle.  The  jack  rabbit  was  very  fast,  and  the  dogs 
the  speediest  of  their  kind.  The  jack  was  clever,  too, 
and  dodged  in  a  way  to  call  forth  cries  of  admiration. 

More  than  once  the  -hounds  seemed  to  be  right  on 
top  of  the  rabbit,  when,  with  a  leap  sidewise,  he  would 
dodge  and  gain  at  least  fifty  yards  before  the  dogs 
could  recover  from  their  momentum  and  again  hurl 
themselves  in  swift  pursuit. 

"See  that  dog  slide!"  cried  Rattleton.  "You  would 
think  he  was  sliding  for  the  home  plate.  Good  boy! 
Get  your  feet  under  you  and  go  it  again." 

Merriwell's  hound  was  proving  itself  a  speedy  and 
graceful  runner,  quick  at  stopping  and  turning,  and  it 
exhibited  at  times  an  intelligence  that  seemed  almost 
human.  Rattleton's  exclamations  were  called  forth 
by  a  sliding  turn,  as  the  jack  rabbit  dodged  and  shot 
away  at  right  angles. 

The  race  was  soon  over.  Merriwell's  dog  reached 
the  rabbit  first,  being  a  dozen  yards  in  the  lead,  and 
was  proclaimed  the  winner. 

"Eight  points  out  of  a  possible  ten,"  announced  the 
judges. 


Jack  Rabbit  Coursing. 

Then  Merriwell  and  his  followers  swung  their  caps 
and  gave  the  slogan  of  Old  Yale. 

One  of  the  Guthrie  dogs  was  soon  seen  to  be  dead 
lame,  with  a  swollen  bunch  on  one  of  its  thighs,  from 
which,  when  examined,  there  oozed  a  bloody  fluid, 
though  no  telltale  piece  of  steel  came  out,  as  in  the 
case  of  Merri well's  dog. 

"Pity  is  isn't  one  of  Parker's  own  dogs,"  said  Dia- 
mond, speaking  again  to  Frank. 

"But  it  may  not  have  been  his  work,"  Merriwell  an- 
swered. 

"There's  not  a  doubt  of  it  in  my  mind,  Merriwell. 
He  has  been  watching  you  and  glaring  at  you  all  the 
morning.  I've  taken  particular  notice  of  his  actions. 
And  what's  the  matter  with  Hodge  ?  He  hangs  off  as 
if  he  had  no  earthly  interest  in  the  coursing." 

"Perhaps  he  hasn't,"  Frank  returned,  not  choosing 
to  make  his  answer  more  definite. 

There  were  other  runs,  and  when  Merriwell's  hound 
was  rested,  it  was  placed  against  Parker's  best  dog,  in 
a  race  after  the  fleetest  rabbit  that  had  yet  come  out 
of  the  boxes. 

"He's  going  to  win  again,"  said  Diamond,  who  once 
more  rode  at  Merriwell's  side.  "See  him  go!  If  that 
other  dog  wasn't  lame  you  could  sweep  the  field." 

The  rabbit  raced  and  dodged  and  doubled,  but  it 
could  not  get  away  from  Merriwell's  dog.  Parker's 
hound,  of  whose  speed  and  many  qualifies  its  owner 
had  openly  boasted,  was  not  in  it  with  Merriwell's. 
It  was  outdistanced  and  outgeneraled  in  every  way. 


122  Jack  Rabbit  Coursing. 

"Mr.  Frank  Merriwell's  dog,  nine  points  in  a  pos- 
sible ten,"  announced  the  judges.  "Dr.  Sneed  Park- 
er's dog,  six  points  in  a  possible  ten." 

Merriwell  glanced  at  Parker  and  saw  his  tallowy 
face  fairly  writhing  with  baffled  rage  and  hate 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HODGE   GETS   HIS   EYES   OPEN. 

When  the  dogs  had  been  given  a  thorough  trial,  and 
the  judges  had  determined  the  points  to  which  they 
were  entitled,  a  general  race  was  announced  to  be  par- 
ticipated in  by  all  the  dogs  and  all  the  remaining  rab- 
bits. 

Merri well's  hound  had  taken  the  highest  number  of 
points,  nine  in  a  possible  ten,  for  speed,  grace,  beauty  of 
action,  quickness  and  cleverness  at  dodging  and  turn- 
ing, display  of  intelligence,  endurance  and  all  the  other 
qualities  that  go  to  make  the  model  greyhound. 

"I  really  hope  your  dog  will  win  in  this,"  said  Alice 
Dean,  speaking  to  Merriwell,  Rattleton  and  Bart 
Hodge,  as  they  all  stood  dismounted  at  the  heads  of 
their  horses.  "He  is  a  dog  worth  possessing." 

"Should  you  like  to  own  him?"  Merriwell  asked, 
quickly.  "If  so,  the  members  of  our  party — for  he 
belongs  to  all  of  us — will  be  glad,  I  am  sure,  to  give 
him  to  you  as  a  present  when  we  leave  Guthrie.  He 
will  be  of  no  possible  use  to  us  back  East,  and  with 
you  I  am  certain  he  will  be  in  good  hands." 

"Do  you  mean  it  ?"  she  asked,  while  a  pleased  flush 
stole  into  her  face. 

"Certainly,  or  I  should  not  make  the  offer." 

She  patted  the  dog's  head. 

"There  is  nothing  I  should  prize  more  highly,  I  as- 


124         Hodge  Gets  His  Eyes  Open. 

sure  you,"  she  declared.  "It  would  be  something  by 
which  I  could  remember  your  party." 

"Then  the  dog  is  yours,"  announced  Frank. 

"When  you  leave  Guthrie!" 

"When  we  leave  Guthrie." 

"There  are  thirteen  rabbits  remaining,"  said  one  of 
the  judges,  approaching  the  group.  "We  will  release 
them  all  at  once.  They  will  scatter,  very  likely,  and 
when  they  have  a  good  start  we  will  unleash  the  dogs." 

"An  unlucky  number,"  smiled  Alice  Dean. 

"Perhaps  we  can  scare  up  a  rabbit  or  two  on  the 
prairie,  and  break  the  spell,"  laughed  Rattleton. 

The  hounds  were  given  water  again,  the  last  they 
were  likely  to  get  until  they  reached  Guthrie,  and  while 
they  and  the  rabbits  were  being  got  in  readiness  for 
what  would  probably  prove  the  most  exciting  run  of 
all,  there  was  a  general  mounting  of  horses,  amid  much 
laughter  and  conversational  pleasantry. 

"There  they  go!"  cried  Rattleton,  as  the  released 
rabbits  began  to  hop  across  the  grass,  some  in  one 
direction  and  some  in  another. 

"And  there  go  the  hounds!"  said  Merriwell.  "Now 
for  some  fun." 

"And  here  we  go,"  groaned  Browning.  "Now  for 
some  jolting  and  misery.  If  I'm  not  dead  of  sun- 
stroke before  we  get  back  to  the  Oklahoma  Hotel  it 
will  be  a  wonder." 

Rabbits,  hounds  and  riders  were  off  for  a  merry 
race  across  the  plain,  each  one  -heading  according  to 
his  own  sweet  will. 

Some  of  the  rabbits  ran  toward  the  sandhills,  others 


Hodge  Gets  His  Eyes  Open.         125 

shot  straight  out  into  the  open  country,  others  swung 
around  in  a  wide  circle. 

It  was  a  funny  sight  to  see  a  big  jack  rabbit  stop 
and  teeter  aloft  on  his  long  hind  legs,  looking  for  the 
hounds  he  felt  sure  were  after  him.  If  none  was  near 
he  hopped  on  for  another  dozen  yards,  only  to  stop  and 
lift  himself  again  and  take  a  grave  survey  of  his  sur- 
roundings. 

"Now  see  that  old  fellow  get  a  move  on  him,"  said 
Diamond,  pointing  with  his  riding  whip  to  a  big, 
white-tailed  jack  that  had  been  hopping  along  in  this 
leisurely  manner.  "He  will  become  a  streak  of  greased 
chain-lightning  in  another  second." 

Merriwell's  hound  was  approaching  the  rabbit,  with 
those  quick,  easy  leaps  that  are  so  deceptive,  and  was 
close  upon  the  jack  before  it  felt  its  danger. 

Then,  realizing  all  at  once  that  if  it  escaped  it  must 
do  the  tallest  running  of  its  life,  it  shot  away  with  a 
mighty  bound,  and  went  down  the  open  plain  with  the 
speed  of  the  wind. 

They  were  off  down  the  open  plain  after  hound  and 
rabbit,  Merriwell,  Diamond  and  Rattleton  riding  close 
together,  their  tongues,  and  the  thud  of  hoofs  on  the 
grass  making  all  the  noise,  for  the  swiftly  speeding 
hound  gave  out  no  more  sound  than  the  rabbit  it  was 
chasing. 

Bart  Hodge  followed  a  hound  in  pursuit  of  a  gray 
streak  that  was  shooting  toward  the  sandhills.  He 
was  alone  at  the  outset,  but  when  the  first  rise  was 
passed,  he  saw  another  rabbit  and  another  hound, 
ridden  hard  after  by  Alice  Dean. 


126        Hodge  Gets  His  Eyes  Open. 

Bart's  face  flushed,  but  his  sensations  were  not 
wholly  those  of  pleasure. 

"She  doesn't  see  me,"  was  his  thought.  "She  has 
no  eyes  for  anything  but  the  hound  and  the  rabbit.  I 
never  saw  a  girl  that  could  sit  a  horse  more  gracefully. 
A  born  horsewoman,  and  as  pretty  as  a  picture." 

He  quite  forgot  the  hound  he  was  following,  and  in- 
voluntarily drew  rein  as  he  watched  her,  as  if  he  de- 
sired her  to  come  up  with  him  that  they  might  ride  on 
together. 

T-hen  he  recollected  himself  and  urged  his  horse 
anew,  still  glancing  at  the  girl  more  than  at  the  hound 
or  rabbit,  or  the  course  he  was  taking. 

The  line  of  her  pursuit  veered  more  and  more,  as  the 
rabbit  swung  around  the  rim  of  the  hill,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  Hodge  found  himself  racing  through  the 
bunch  grass  in  the  same  direction  as  she,  with  not 
more  than  a  hundred  yards  separating  them. 

She  looked  in  his  direction  and  gave  him  a  smile  and 
a  bow  of  recognition,  whereupon  he  smiled  back  and 
lifted  his  cap. 

The  rabbits  had  come  together,  and  were  leaping  on 
side  by  side,  with  the  hounds  in  close  pursuit,  each 
after  his  respective  rabbit. 

To  his  surprise  Hodge  saw  Alice  Dean  draw  her 
horse  nearer  to  him. 

The  distance  separating  them  quickly  lessened. 

"A  pretty  race,  Mr.  Hodge!"  she  called.  "Your 
dog  is  running  well." 

Bart  could  not  resist  her  kindly  good  will  and  genial- 
ity. The  sullen  look  went  out  of  his  face. 


Hodge  Gets  His  Eyes  Open.         127 

"Thank  you,"  he  said.  "In  my  opinion,  we  haven't 
had  a  prettier  race  to-day." 

The  rabbits  made  another  turn  and  went  down  a 
grassy  slop,  with  the  hounds  crowding  them  hard. 
The  intelligent  horses  followed,  almost  of  their  own 
accord. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  slope  the  horse  ridden  by  Alice 
Dean  put  one  of  its  forefeet  into  a  badger  hole  and 
fell  heavily,  throwing  her  with  violence  from  the 
saddle. 

It  happened  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  that 
Hodge  was  fairly  dazed.  He  sawed  fiercely  on  the 
rein  to  bring  his  horse  to  a  stop,  then  leaped  down  and 
ran  back  to  where  the  girl  lay  in  a  heap,  chilled  by  the 
fear  that  she  was  seriously  injured  or  killed. 

Her  horse  staggered  to  its  feet,  trembling  violently, 
but  Bart  saw  that  its  leg  was  not  broken,  and  he  hoped 
it  was  not  much  hurt. 

He  gave  no  further  heed  to  the  horse,  but  knelt  at 
the  girl's  side  and  lifted  her  head. 

The  pallor  of  .her  face  increased  his  fears. 

But  when  he  lifted  her  head  still  higher,  he  saw  the 
color  come  into  her  cheeks,  and  he  gave  a  great  sigh 
of  relief.  When  her  eyelids  fluttered  and  she  moved 
uneasily,  he  could  have  shouted  for  joy. 

The  blue  eyes  opened  and  stared  up  at  him. 

"You  don't  know  how  you  scared  me,"  he  declared, 
still  supporting  her  head.  "That  was  a  terrible  fall, 
and  you  looked  so  white !  Do  you  think  you  are  much 
hurt?  If  I  only  knew  where  to  get  some  water!" 


128         Hodge  Gets  His  Eyes  Open. 

His  words  brought  back  her  reeling  senses. 

"I — I — don't  know!"  she  gasped.  "My  horse  stum- 
bled, and  I " 

"You  got  a  very  bad  fall.  Do  you  think  you  can 
stand?  Permit  me  to  help  you." 

He  took  her  by  the  shoulders  to  assist  her,  but  she 
sank  back,  white  and  weak. 

"I  will  be  better  in  a  moment,  Mr.  Hodge!"  she 
said.  "My — my  horse!  Is  he " 

"I  think  he  is  all  right,"  assured  Hodge. 

"And  the  dogs  and  rabbits?" 

She  tried  to  smile  as  she  asked  the  question. 

"They  may  be  out  of  the  Territory  now,  by  the  way 
they  were  going.  Shall  I  assist  you  again?" 

She  succeeded  in  gaining  her  feet  this  time,  and 
with  Hodge's  aid  managed  to  reach  her  horse. 

"Poor  old  fellow,"  she  said,  smoothing  the  horse's 
neck  with  her  gloved  hand.  "Did  you  get  a  bad  fall? 
Do  you  think  you  can  carry  me  back  to  Guthrie?" 

"Do  you  think  you  can  ride?"  Hodge  queried. 

"I  shall  be  all  right  in  a  little  while,"  was  her  brave 
assertion.  "I  am  a  little  shaky  and  weak,  but  that  will 
pass  away  soon.  Now,  if  you  will  put  up  the  rein 
and  help  me  into  the  saddle." 

This  Hodge  did,  and  was  rewarded  with  a  smile  that 
set  his  heart  to  hammering. 

"The  dogs  will  return  soon,"  she  predicted,  when 
Hodge  had  caught  his  horse  and  was  again  at  her 
side.  "Shall  we  ride  toward  the  starting  point?" 


Hodge  Gets  His  Eyes  Open.         129 

Bart  Hodge's  heart  was  in  a  flutter,  as  they  turned 
the  heads  of  the  horses  up  the  slope;  and  that  ride 
with  Alice  Dean  back  to  the  place  where  the  wagons 
were  stationed,  he  afterward  remembered  as  one  ef 
the  pleasantest  incidents  of  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

OUT     AFTER     COYOTES. 

"Hodge  has  brightened  up  since  yesterday,"  ob- 
served Jack  Diamond,  speaking  to  Frank  Merriwell. 
"Hear  him  laughing  over  there.  He's  talking  to  Alice 
Dean." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  but  he  has  a  right  to  feel  good," 
said  Merriwell.  "He  has  been  smiled  on  by  Miss 
Dean,  and  praised  by  her  father,  the  bank  cashier,  in 
a  way  to  make  anybody  feel  good.  Half  the  people 
in  Guthrie  know  that  he  was  able  to  render  her  much- 
needed  assistance  when  -her  horse  went  down  yesterday 
with  its  foot  in  a  badger  hole." 

"It  is  making  Sneed  Parker  look  mighty  black. 
From  the  appearance  of  his  face  one  would  judge  that 
he  would  like  to  bite  Bart's  head  off." 

The  Guthrie  Gun  Club  and  its  guests  were  riding 
and  wheeling  away  from  Guthrie  in  the  early  after- 
noon. The  greyhounds  were  not  with  them.  They 
were  accompanied,  though,  by  some  half  a  dozen  dogs, 
that  seemed  to  be  better  adapted  to  fighting  than  to 
running.  The  event  of  the  day  was  to  be  a  coyote 
drive  or  roundup. 

Frank  and  his  companions  rode  their  bicycles,  which 
had  come  on  by  express  from  Fort  Worth.  Alice  Dean 
and  Sneed  Parker  were  also  on  wheels,  as  were  some 
others,  but  many  more  were  mounted  on  horses,  white 


Out  After  Coyotes.  131 

not  a  few  were  in  blackboards  and  light  spring  wagons. 
The  dogs  were  carried  in  the  wagons  to  save  their 
strength. 

Alice  Dean  had  recovered  entirely  from  the  shock 
of  her  fall.  Merriwell  noticed  that  she  avoided 
Parker  and  never  spoke  to  him  even  when  they  were 
brought  fairly  face  to  face.  To  all  outward  appear- 
ance Bart  had  supplanted  Parker,  and  Frank  smiled. 

The  persons  taking  part  in  a  coyote  drive  take  sta- 
tions in  a  circle  that  is  several  miles  in  circumference 
and  begin  at  the  same  time  to  move  toward  a  com- 
mon center,  driving  everything  in  the  way  of  game 
before  them.  However,  no  attention  is  paid  to  rab- 
bits, big  or  little.  The  object  is  to  start  all  the  coyotes 
that  may  chance  to  be  within  the  circle  and  drive  them 
to  the  center,  where  with  dogs  and  clubs  they  are  dis- 
patched. 

Frank  wheeled  out  to  a  point  near  the  center  of  the 
northern  limit.  On  the  way  he  was  joined  by  Bart 
Hodge,  and  for  more  than  a  mile  they  rode  side  by 
side. 

"I  want  to  beg  your  pardon,  Merry,"  said  Hodge, 
finally.  "I  made  a  fool  of  myself,  as  I  usually  do." 

"How  was  that?"  Frank  questioned. 

"I  ought  to  kick  myself  for  forgetting  that  you  ar^ 
the  best  friend  I  ever  had,  or  am  likely  to  have.  Miss 
Dean  has  told  me  how  you  have  been  praising  me  to 
her,  and  I,  like  a  jealous  fool,  was  all  the  time  thinking 
the  meanest  things  about  you.  I  hope  you  won't  lay 
it  up  against  me,  Merry,  and  next  time  I'll  try  to  be  a 
little  more  sensible." 


132  Out  After  Coyotes. 

"That's  all  right,  Bart,"  Frank  returned.  "I  had 
no  intention  of  laying  anything  up  against  you.  I 
saw  how  you  felt." 

"Well,  she  is  such  an  attractive  girl,  and  of  course 
I  knew  she  must  think  highly  of  you  for  what  you  did 
for  her,  and — and — because  you  are  such  a  splendid 
fellow,  Merry.  I  naturally  wanted  her  to  think  as 
much  of  me  as  I  fancied  she  thought  of  you." 

"And  she  does,"  laughed  Merriwell.  "I  could  see 
that  with  half  an  eye.  You  are  solid  there,  Bart,  and 
whenever  I  can  say  a  good  word  for  you,  you  may  be 
sure  I  shall  do  it." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Hodge.  "You're  the  finest  fellow 
in  the  world,  Merry,  and  the  best  friend  I've  got. 
I'm  beginning  to  believe,  myself,  that  she  thinks  a  good 
deal  of  me,  and  I  have  you  to  thank  for  it  largely." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  Bart.  A  girl  doesn't  like  a  fellow 
merely  because  -he  is  spoken  well  of  by  his  friends. 

If  she  likes  him  it's  because Well,  just  because 

she  likes  him.  That's  about  as  near  as  anybody  can 
explain  it,  I  guess." 

Hodge  glanced  at  his  watch. 

"I  must  be  off,  for  I  have  to  station  myself  about  a 
mile  east  of  you.  I  couldn't  rest,  though,  till  I'd  let 
you  know  how  I  felt.  Good-by." 

"Good-by,"  cried  Merriwell.  "Let  me  wish  you 
luck,  both  in  the  drive  to-day  and  with  Miss  Dean. 
Look  out  for  Sneed  Parker !" 

From  the  point  where  Frank  stationed  himself  there 
stretched  a  rolling  plain.  He  was  on  a  slight  emi- 
nence and  could  see  nearly  half  of  the  great  circle. 


Out  After  Coyotes.  133 

There  were  horsemen  and  bicyclists  to  the  right  of 
him  and  horsemen  and  bicyclists  to  the  left  of  him. 
Nearly  a  mile  away  he  observed  Alice  Dean  wheel  into 
position  and  caught  the  flutter  of  her  handkerchief. 

He  knew  she  had  recognized  him  and  waved  his 
handkerchief  in  return. 

"I  hope  Hodge  won't  get  jealous  again,"  he  thought, 
with  a  light  laugh.  "If  the  green-eyed  monster 
hadn't  robbed  him  of  his  usual  discernment  he  might 
have  seen  from  the  first  that  I  was  disposed  to  give 
him  the  entire  field  there." 

Then  he  thought  of  Inza  Burrage  and  his  red  rival 
of  the  Taos  Pueblo. 

He  took  out  his  watch  and  noted  the  time. 

"Only  a  few  minutes  to  wait.  It's  a  lovely  after- 
noon. I  feared  it  would  be  distressingly  -hot." 

Five  minute  later  the  semicircle  within  the  range 
of  his  vision  began  to  contract  and  the  coyote  roundup 
had  commenced. 

Frank  mounted  his  wheel  and  rode  slowly  down  the 
rise,  looking  to  the  right  and  to  the  left,  and  scanning 
as  well  every  grassy  hollow  in  which  a  coyote  might 
be  hidden. 

Both  coyotes  and  jack  rabbits  were  a  great  nui- 
sance in  the  region  round  about  Guthrie.  The  jack 
rabbits  peeled  the  bark  from  the  young  fruit  trees 
that  the  Oklahoma  farmers  were  trying  to  grow,  and 
the  coyotes  killed  poultry  and  lambs,  and  even  young 
calves.  No  greater  service  could  be  done  to  the  set- 
tlers that  to  thin  out  these  pests. 

"That's  a  likely-looking  place  for  one  of  the  ras- 


134  Out  After  Coyotes. 

cals,"  thought  Frank,  as  he  turned  his  wheel  toward 
some  low  ground  where  the  grass  grew  thick  and 
rank. 

He  was  right  in  his  surmise.  As  he  came  down  the 
slope,  with  the  wheel  whirring  over  the  hummocky 
places,  a  lean,  skulking  creature  leaped  out  and  sped 
away  toward  the  southeast. 

"Here,  you  are  not  going  in  the  right  direction!" 
Frank  muttered,  and  began  to  pedal  with  all  his  might 
to  get  in  ahead  of  the  coyote  and  turn  it  in  the  de- 
sired course. 

He  succeeded  after  a  short  run,  then  decreased  his 
speed  and  followed  more  slowly. 

The  coyote  stopped  and  looked  back  at  him  occa- 
sionally. It  did  not  seem  to  observe  the  wavering  line 
of  drivers.  Now  and  then  it  broke  into  a  trot  or  a 
swinging  lope.  Frank  kept  an  eye  on  it,  but  did  not 
crowd  it,  and  gave  it  no  apparent  attention  so  long  as 
it  went  in  the  direction  he  desired. 

Before  a  mile  was  passed  over  another  coyote  sprang 
up  off  to  the  left.  It  was  nearer  Bart  than  Frank. 

"Hodge  may  look  after  that,"  he  concluded.  "Two 
coyotes  already.  If  the  rest  do  as  well  as  Hodge  and 
I,  we  shall  have  a  full  net  of  the  scamps." 

He  glanced  toward  the  right  and  saw  Alice  Dea-: 
in  pursuit  of  one  that  had  broken  cover  close  to  her 
and  was  trying  to  get  away. 

"See  her  go!"  exclaimed  Frank.  "She  is  as  much  at 
home  on  a  wheel  as  she  is  on  a  horse.  I  don't  wondei 
that  Bart  is  stuck  on  her." 

The  coyote  gave  Alice  Dean  a  lively  chase,  and  it 


Out  After  Coyotes.  135 

took  a  spurt  of  more  than  half  a  mile  before  he  was 
willing  to  recognize  that  it  was  much  easier  to  go  in 
the  direction  she  wanted  him  than  in  the  one  he  had 
chosen. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  mile  the  coyote  Bart  was 
following  joined  the  one  pursued  by  Merriwell.  They 
fronted  about  and  stared  at  the  wheelmen  coming 
slowly  toward  them  as  if  they  wondered  what  new 
form  of  animal  life  they  had  encountered.  They  had 
no  doubt  seen  horsemen  and  people  on  foot,  but  in  all 
probability  they  had  never  before  set  their  cunning, 
gleaming  eyes  on  mounted  bicyclists. 

When  satisfied  with  their  inspection,  and  made  un- 
easy by  the  nearer  approach  of  the  strange  creatures 
that  rolled  along  so  easily  and  noiselessly,  they  turned 
about,  thrust  their  noses  suspiciously  into  the  air,  and 
were  Lway  again  at  a  skulking  lope. 

Occasionally  jack  rabbits  started  up  and  bounded 
off  with  long  leaps,  but  the  members  of  the  Guthrie 
Gun  Club  and  their  guests  were  after  bigger  game 
that  day  and  paid  no  attention  to  the  rabbits. 

As  the  circle  contracted  more  and  more  and  the 
drivers  neared  the  center,  Frank  saw  that  more  than 
a  dozen  coyotes  were  inclosed.  They  were  running 
nervously  here  and  there  and  viewing  with  evident 
dismay  the  approach  of  their  enemies.  Occasionally 
one  attempted  to  break  out  of  the  narrowing  ring  and 
there  would  be  a  lively  chase  to  drive  him  in. 

Smaller  and  still  smaller  grew  the  limits.  The  sun 
was  already  well  down  in  the  west.  Some  of  the 
men  began  to  yell.  The  coyotes  dashed  here  and  there, 


1)6  Out  After  Coyotes. 

but  were  driven  back  at  every  turn.  Then  the  dogs 
were  released  from  the  wagons. 

Like  every  other  coward,  a  coyote  will  fight  when 
cornered,  and  as  the  dogs  dashed  into  their  midst, 
the  coyotes  began  to  snap  in  their  vicious  way,  drawing 
blood  wherever  their  sharp  teeth  touched,  and  sending 
more  than  one  dog  back,  reeling  and  howling. 

There  were  more  coyotes  than  dogs,  and  Frank  soon 
began  to  see  some  of  the  liveliest  fighting  he  had  ever 
witnessed. 

The  coyotes  were  no  match  for  the  dogs,  though, 
and  he  saw  that  one  by  one  they  would  soon  be  over- 
powered and  killed. 

Then  an  animal  he  had  mistaken  for  a  coyote, 
though  it  was  larger  than  the  others,  and  which  he  now 
saw  to  be  a  big  gray  wolf,  broke  through  the  line  of 
dogs  and  people  and  reached  the  open  plain. 

"Don't  let  it  get  away!"  he  heard  some  one  yell,  and 
saw  several  dash  after  it. 

Frank  changed  his  course  and  was  off  after  it  like 
a  flash.  He  heard  a  clatter  of  hoofs  and  knew  that 
some  of  the  horsemen  were  joining  in  the  chase.  Then, 
looking  straight  ahead  of  him  at  the  runaway  wolf, 
he  put  his  weight  on  the  pedals,  and  his  bicycle  seemed 
to  fairly  fly  over  the  short  grass. 

The  wolf  was  a  long-legged,  long-winded  creature, 
and  went  across  the  plain  like  a  streak.  The  horse- 
men soon  abandoned  the  chase,  and  one  by  one  the 
bicyclists  be<ran  to  drop  out. 

Frank  looked  sharply  at  the  bicyclist  in  front  of  him, 
and  to  his  surprise  sn\v  that  it  was  Sneed  Parker.  He 


Out  After  Coyotes.  137 

glanced  quickly  over  his  shoulder.  There  was  only 
one  bicyclist  in  his  wake,  and  that  was  a  Guthrie  man 
whom  he  did  not  recognize. 

"I  won't  be  beaten  in  a  race  of  this  kind  by  Sneed 
Parker !"  he  muttered  through  his  set  teeth.  "I'll  dis- 
tance him,  if  I  don't  succeed  in  overhauling  the  wolf. 
I  must  acknowledge,  though,  that  I  didn't  think  he 
could  ride  as  he  is  doing." 

Frank's  bicycle  now  seemed  to  take  the  speed  of 
wings  as  he  bent  over  the  handlebars  and  sent  it  flying 
along. 

Yard  by  yard  he  gained  on  Sneed  Parker.  The  sun 
became  a  big  red  ball  on  the  horizon's  rim.  With  a 
spurt  Frank  passed  Parker  and  pedaled  after  the  wolf. 
He  glanced  back,  saw  a  fierce  look  of  hate  sweep  across 
Parker's  face,  and  observed  that  the  other  wheelman 
had  dropped  out  of  the  race  some  time  before. 

The  wolf  was  reeling  and  staggering.  It  made  a 
last  leap  and  fell  prone  on  the  grass.  When  Frank 
reached  its  side  it  was  dead. 

Parker  came  up  panting  and  exhausted. 

"It  was  game  to  the  last,"  said  Frank,  filled  with  ad- 
miration and  pity. 

But  he  did  not  tell  Parker  that  it  was  not  simply  a 
desire  to  overtake  the  wolf  that  made  him  maintain  the 
race  so  persisently. 

"I  haven't  any  pity  for  it,"  Parker  declared.  "There 
isn't  a  single  redeeming  trait  in  one  of  those  creatures." 

Frank  looked  about  him  and  at  the  descending  sun 
and  was  filled  with  surprise.  The  brief  twilight  would 
soon  be  on  them.  The  country  was  unfamiliar.  At 


138  Out  After  Coyotes. 

one  side  was  a  ragged,  rocky  ravine,  on  whose  rim 
the  wolf  had  died. 

Sneed  Parker  took  in  the  configuration  of  the  coun- 
try at  the  same  time.  The  black  look  of  hate  came 
back  into  his  face. 

Then,  as  Frank  stooped  to  examine  the  wolf,  Parker 
suddenly  sprang  upon  him. 

"Down  you  go !"  he  madly  hissed. 

Frank  was  given  no  time  to  defend  himself.  He 
tried  to  turn  and  grapple  with  the  man,  but,  with  a 
savage  thrust,  Parker  sent  him  whirling  over  the  brink. 

A  cry  of  horror  was  wrung  from  the  lips  of  the  un- 
fortunate boy. 

Then  there  was  a  dull,  sodden  thud,  and — tilenct. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
PARKER'S   VILLAINY. 

Sneed  Parker  trembled  like  a  leaf  as  he  bent  over 
the  rim  of  the  ravine  and  looked  down  upon  Frank 
Merriwell.  He  was  still  winded  and  shaky  from  his 
long  and  hard  run,  but  it  was  not  this  that  made  him 
tremble  so  violently.  He  believed  he  had  killed  the 
youth. 

Frank  lay  in  a  heap  where  he  had  fallen,  with  one 
arm  doubled  under  him. 

"He'll  not  interfere  again  in  the  affairs  of  other 
people!"  Parker  hissed  through  his  blue  lips.  "I 
didn't  expect  to  catch  him  at  such  a  disadvantage,  and 
he  was  a  fool  for  permitting  me  to  do  so." 

The  temptation  to  hurl  Merriwell  into  the  ravine 
had  come  upon  Sneed  Parker  with  sudden  and  irre- 
sistible force.  He  hated  Merriwell  as  he  had  seldom 
hated  any  one,  but  he  had  not  really  contemplated  slay- 
ing Merriwell  in  cold  blood.  What  he  wanted  to  do 
was  to  injure  Frank  in  some  way,  to  maim  him,  if 
possible,  or  make  him  seem  to  the  people  of  Guthrie  a 
scoundrel  and  scamp. 

As  he  looked  gloating  down  into  the  ravine  he  ut- 
tered a  gurgling  cry,  while  his  face  grew  whiter  and 
pastier. 

He  fancied  he  detected  a  movement,  a  sign  of  life. 

"Shall  I  have  to  kill  him  yet?"  he  whispered.     "It 


140  Parker's  Villainy. 

will  never  do  for  him  to  crawl  back  to  town  and  tell 
what  I've  done.  No!  I  must  finish  the  job!" 

If  Frank  had  moved  he  did  not  move  again.  The 
last  red  rays  of  the  sinking  sun  fell  on  Parker's  ghastly 
face,  making  them  seem  the  face  of  a  fiend  lighted  by 
the  fires  of  an  inferno. 

"I  must  run  no  risks!"  he  whispered  again,  still 
staring  into  the  ravine  with  distended  eyes.  "I  must 
make  sure  of  my  work !" 

The  fear  of  the  crime  he  contemplated  made  him 
shudder. 

"This  is  not  a  time  for  squeamishness,"  was  his  re- 
flection. "It  will  be  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to 
finish  him  just  as  he  lies,  with  never  a  mark  or  sign 
that  can  be  detected  to  tell  of  it." 

Still  he  appeared  to  hesitate.  He  lifted  himself 
erect  and  looked  carefully  around  over  the  wide  stretch 
of  hill  and  plain.  No  living  thing  was  in  sight.  The 
sun  had  set  and  the  twilight  was  thickening.  He 
glanced  at  the  dead  wolf  and  at  Frank's  bicycle. 

"Yes,  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world.  When  he  is 
found,  it  will  be  thought  he  rode  over  the  edge  of  the 
ravine  and  fell  to  his  death.  It  has  come  about  bet- 
ter than  I  could  possibly  have  planned  it." 

He  stared  into  the  ravine  again,  running  his  eyes 
searchingly  up  and  down  it. 

"If  I  had  a  little  water — just  a  drop." 

He  was  sure,  though,  before  he  looked,  that  no 
water  was  to  be  found  anywhere  near. 

"It  will  be  dark  soon.  And  he  may  come  baek  to 
consciousness.  I  must  hurry." 


Parker's  Villainy.  141 

He  sought  out  a  place  where  he  might  descend 
easily,  and  let  himself  down  beside  the  form  of  the  in- 
sensible youth. 

With  the  practiced  skill  of  a  physician,  he  put  his 
fingers  on  Frank's  wrist  and  laid  a  hand  on  the  feebly- 
beating  heart. 

"He's  not  hurt  half  as  bad  as  I  fancied,"  he  shak- 
ingly  declared.  "He  would  come  out  of  this  soon. 
He  must  have  bones  and  muscles  like  iron." 

The  discovery  startled  him. 

Taking  a  physician's  case  out  of  an  inner  pocket, 
he  opened  it  on  the  ground  beside  -him,  and  selected 
from  it  a  tiny  phial  containing  a  powder.  He  also 
took  out  the  three  hypodermic  syringes  which  the  case 
contained  and  placed  them  on  the  ground.  The  dark- 
ness was  increasing  in  the  ravine  and  he  felt  that  he 
must  work  quickly.  The  gloom  gave  him  a  greater 
feeling  of  security,  however. 

From  the  case  he  took  another  small  phial,  which 
contained  a  liquid  like  water.  Upon  the  broad  blade 
of  a  knife  he  dropped  some  of  the  powder,  and  then 
moistened  it  with  the  liquid.  This  he  agitated  with 
the  sharp  point  of  a  cutting  knife  until  it  was  of  a  con- 
sistency to  suit  him.  Then  he  drew  it  into  the  syringe. 

Taking  the  syringe  in  his  right  hand,  he  was  about 
to  look  for  a  place  on  Frank's  arm  or  shoulder  where 
he  might  insert  its  point  without  much  chance  of  the 
puncture  being  detected,  when  a  noise  on  the  rim  of  the 
ledge  gave  him  an  uncomfortable  start. 

He  came  near  dropping  the  syringe  in  his  agitation, 

"What  was  that?"  he  hoarsely  whispered. 


142  Parker's  Villainy. 

He  laid  the  syringe  on  the  ground  and  stood  erect, 
intently  listening,  while  his  face  worked  strangely. 

"Pshaw!"  he  said.  "Suppose  some  one  should 
come,  I  could  tell  them  that  Merriwell  had  fallen  over 
here  and  I  was  trying  to  help  him." 

Still,  the  reflection  did  not  banish  his  uneasiness. 
He  was  sure  he  had  heard  a  sound,  and  he  could  not 
free  himself  of  the  uncomfortable  feeling  that  some 
one  was  crouching  on  the  rim  of  the  ravine,  peering 
down  at  him. 

"I  must  find  out  what  that  was,"  he  muttered. 
"Heavens!  how  my  heart  beats!  If  any  one  should 
see  me,  and  then  slip  away  and  tell  of  it  afterward." 

He  turned  back  with  cautious  steps,  and  mounted 
stealthily  to  the  level  ground  above,  glancing  here  and 
there  to  detect  any  one  who  might  be  in  hiding. 

A  small  prairie  owl  flew  up  almost  under  his  feet 
and  disappeared  in  silent  flight. 

Sneed  Parker  sunk  down  with  a  startled,  gasping 
cry. 

"By  all  the  fiends,  I  thought  that  was  a  man!"  he 
gurgled. 

For  almost  a  minute  he  sat  there,  weak  as  water. 

Then,  noticing  how  rapidly  the  twilight  was  fading, 
he  climbed  back  into  the  ravine  as  quickly  as  his  shak- 
ing limbs  would  carry  him,  and  again  approached 
Frank. 

"I  must  do  the  thing  at  once  and  get  away,"  was  his 
thought.  "How  dark  it  is  getting-  down  here.  I  won- 
der what  has  become  of  the  rest  of  the  crowd  ?" 

He  reached  down  for  the  syringe,  and  with  his  left 


Parker's  Villainy. 

hand  bared  Merriwell's  arm.  His  fingers  touched  a 
slight  cut  where  the  arm  had  come  in  contact  with  a 
point  of  rock. 

"Just  the  thing,"  gloatingly,  and  with  a  return  of 
confidence.  "I  can  stab  the  point  of  the  syringe  in 
there  and  defy  the  keenest  doctor  to  discover  the  mark." 

Frank  stirred  uneasily  and  groaned. 

"He's  returning  to  consciousness,"  thought  Parker. 
"Once  this  is  beneath  his  skin,  though,  and  he'll  pass 
into  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking.  Ah-h !" 

The  last  was  a  deep-drawn  sigh,  forced  from  his  lips 
as  the  point  of  the  syringe  was  plunged  into  the  arm 
at  the  place  selected  and  the  syringe  was  pressed  into 
the  veins. 

He  drew  away  the  instrument  and  stood  tremblingly 
erect 

"The  deed  is  done!"  he  muttered.  "Nothing  can 
save  him  now.  There  was  enough  poison  in  that  to 
kill  ten  men.  He  will  not  live  an  hour!" 

Still  trembling,  he  stooped  and  hastily  restored  the 
phials,  knives  and  syringes  to  the  medicine  case,  which 
he  again  carefully  placed  in  an  inner  pocket  of  his  coat. 

"It  isn't  a  bad  thing  to  be  a  doctor,  in  a  case  like 
this,"  he  reflected,  as  he  climbed  again  to  the  rim  of 
the  ravine.  "His  friends  will  not  suspect  anything, 
even  when  he  is  found.  I  must  roll  the  bicycle  over, 
though.  Then  they  will  be  sure  he  fell  down  there 
and  was  killed." 

The  brief  twilight  was  almost  gone.  Frank,  lying 
prone  on  the  bottom  of  the  ravine,  seemed  only  a  black 
patch  of  earth  or  stone.  Out  on  the  plain  there  was 


144  Parker's  Villainy. 

no  movement  or  sign  of  life.  The  evening  breeze 
swayed  the  grass  and  cooled  Sneed  Parker's  burning 
cheeks, 

Parker  rolled  the  bicycle  to  the  edge  of  the  ravine, 
then  pushed  it  over.  It  seemed  to  shoot  out  into  the 
thickening  darkness,  and  struck  with  a  rebounding 
crash. 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Frank  Merriwell!"  Parker  whis- 
pered. "You're  not  the  first  man  that  has  made  the 
big  mistake  of  interfering  in  the  affairs  of  other  people. 
When  I  see  you  again,  if  I  ever  do,  you'll  be  on  a 
stretcher  or  in  an  icebox." 

Then  Parker  mounted  his  own  bicycle  and  fled  away 
like  a  specter  through  the  dim  twilight. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

LOST. 

"Lordy  massy  sakes  teh  goose-grease!"  groaned 
Toots,  with  lugubrious  emphasis.  "If  dis  po'  nigger 
had  'a'  dre'mp  ob  de  trubble  he  was  gwan  teh  git  in, 
he  wouldn't  nebber  gone  chargin'  round  after  no  sky- 
otes,  you  heah  me!  No,  sar!  He'd  'a'  stayed  in  de 
toown,  whar  de  'lectrum  lights  am  shinin'.  Dis  biz- 
ness  meks  mah  heart  turn  reg'lar  flip-flops — yes,  sar !" 

"Makes  me  wish  I  was  back  to  hum  on  the  farm," 
declared  Ephraim  Gallup.  "Darn  my  punkins,  I'll 
stay  there  when  I  git  there,  too!" 

"Yah!"  snorted  Hans  Dunnerwust.  "You  petter 
belief  me,  ven  I  gid  me  some  blace  I  von't  nefer  come 
pack,  alretty  yet !" 

"Faith,  an'  thot's  roight!"  chimed  in  Barney  Mul- 
loy.  "It's  the  b'atin'est  counthry  to  git  lost  in  thot 
iver  wor  made.  Oi  wondher  pwhere  the  other  felly s 
air  by  this  toime?  But  niwer  a  bit  av  good  will  it  do 
to  whoine.  Pwhat  was  thot  now,  begobs  ?  Oi  thought 
Oi  saw  a  loight  across  there." 

Barney,  Toots,  Dunnerwust  and  Gallup  were  wheel- 
ing slowly  through  the  night,  not  knowing  what  direc- 
tion to  take,  and  made  miserable  by  the  thought  that 
they  were  lost. 

The  dogs  had  not  been  able  to  kill  all  the  coyotes. 
In  the  final  rush  three  of  the  coyotes  succeeded  in 


146  Lost 

breaking  through  the  circle  of  men  and  dogs,  and  ran 
for  their  lives,  each  in  a  different  direction. 

Dunnerwust,  Gallup,  Toots  and  Mulloy  flew  after 
one  of  these.  It  made  for  a  bit  of  broken  country  and 
escaped,  and  when  its  pursuers  were  ready  to  rejoin 
the  other  members  of  the  party,  they  found  themselves 
unable  to  do  so. 

They  did  not  make  this  alarming  discovery  until 
they  crossed  a  ridge  which  they  believed  separated 
them  from  their  friends  and  saw  before  them  an  un- 
familiar region.  Then  they  knew  they  had  become 
turned  around  as  to  direction. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  crest  of  what  they  be- 
lieved to  be  the  right  ridge  the  sun  was  sinking  and 
their  friends  were  not  to  be  seen. 

After  they  had  wheeled  on  and  on,  for  hours  as  it 
seemed  to  them,  seeing  now  and  then  the  gleam  of  a 
light  in  a  settler's  house,  which  when  they  rode  toward 
it,  always  disappeared  and  left  them  more  bewildered 
than  ever. 

"It's  only  another  one  of  them  wilier-wisps  that 
we've  been  chasin'  all  night,"  growled  Gallup. 

"Don'd  you  pelief  me!  Id  vos  somedings  else!" 
declared  Hans.  "Dot  lighd  vas  a  camp-fire  dot  id 
come  vrom." 

"An'  begobs,  Oi  sane  the  two  legs  av  a  mon  walkin' 
in  front  av  it!"  said  Mulloy. 

Toots  stopped  and  jumped  off  his  wheel. 

"What  in  thutteration  is  the  matter  with  you,  now  ?" 
demanded  Gallup. 

"Yo*  don't  git  dis  nigger  teh  ride  up  to  nuffin'  like 


Lost  147 

dat,"  gurgled  Toots.  "No,  sar!  I  'done  lose  mah 
rabbit  foot  las'  week,  an'  mah  healt  has  been  po'  ebber 
sence.  Dat  ain't  no  sho'  nuff  honest  light  comin' 
from  house  whar  white  folkses  lives.  Dat's  Injuns!" 

Toots'  fear  that  the  light  came  from  an  Indian 
camp-fire  was  wonderfully  disconcerting  to  all  except 
Barney,  and  but  for  his  assertions  that  Oklahoma  was 
no  longer  a  part  of  the  Indian  Territory,  and  that  the 
Indians  down  there  were  mostly  civilized  and  peace- 
ably disposed  anyway,  it  would  have  been  given  a  wide 
berth.  They  might  have  avoided  it  at  any  rate,  but 
for  the  hope  that  it  might  be  a  fire  kindled  by  members 
of  their  party,  who  were  lost  like  themselves. 

As  they  drew  near  they  beheld  the  dim  outlines  of 
horses  beyond  the  fire  and  saw  three  men  squatting  on 
the  ground,  smoking.  The  camp  had  not  been  long 
pitched,  for  the  -horses  were  grazing  hungrily  and  a 
frying  pan  on  the  fire  sent  up  an  odor  of  burning 
grease. 

"Oi'm  moighty  sure  thim  fellys  air  setthlers,"  Mul- 
loy  asserted,  as  these  details  were  observed.  "Anyway, 
they're  whoite  men  an'  they  won't  hurt  us,  begobs! 
Faith,  if  they  can  tell  us  which  way  it  is  thot  we're 
wantin'  to  go,  it  will  be  a  dale  av  a  favor !" 

Hans  and  Toots,  who  were  on  the  point  of  wheeling 
away  from  the  dangerous  vicinity,  took  fresh  courage 
at  this,  and  followed  Mulloy  and  Gallup  up  toward  the 
camp,  though  not  without  considerable  reluctance  and 
hesitation. 

The  men  did  not  hear  the  noiseless  wheels,  and  so 


148  Lost. 

the  boys  were  close  to  the  fire  before  they  were  seen. 
Then  the  men  leaped  up  hastily. 

"It's  fri'nds  we  air!"  cried  Barney  Mulloy,  riding 
into  the  circle  of  light,  closely  followed  by  the  others. 
"And  Oi'm  hoping  thot  we  can  say  the  same  av  you. 
whin  we  know  you  betther." 

"I  can't  say  that  we  wuz  expectin'  any  visitors  to- 
night," declared  a  big,  black-bearded  fellow,  who 
seemed  to  be  the  leader  of  the  trio,  looking  suspiciously 
at  the  dismounting  bicyclists.  "Leastways  we  didn't 
expect  'em  to  come  in  a-straddlin'  balloon-rimmed 
wheels.  Whether  we're  to  be  friends  er  not  I  can't 
say,  as  I  don't  remember  that  I  ever  had  the  pleasure 
of  meetin'  up  with  any  of  you  gents  before." 

"By  chaowder,  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  that  feller !" 
whispered  Gallup,  speaking  as  much  to  himself  as  to 
any  one  else.  "If  I  was  away  frum  here,  gol  darned  ef 
I  wouldn't  stay  away." 

"Set  down!"  the  black-bearded  fellow  commanded, 
pointing  to  a  place  beside  the  fire.  "It'll  look  sociable, 
and  we  kin  talk  better.  Whatever  might  yer  names 
be?  I  don't  recollect  'em,  if  you  said!" 

"Me  name  is  Barney  Mulloy,  and " 

The  words  floated  up  to  Frank  Merriwell,  who  lay 
not  far  away,  in  a  condition  of  half  consciousness,  and 
brought  back  his  drifting  senses. 

Frank  Merriwell  was  not  dead! 

He  was  not  even  seriously  injured. 

For  a  long  time  he  had  been  lying  there,  in  a  half- 
waking  and  half-dreaming  state. 

He  started  up  now,  only  to  sink  back  with  a  moan 


Lost.  149 

of  pain.  The  arm  that  was  twisted  under  him  gave 
a  sharp  stab.  He  felt  deathly  sick,  too.  He  won- 
dered what  had  happened  to  him. 

Then,  like  a  flash,  came  back  the  memory  of  the  wolf 
chase,  of  Sneed  Parker's  clutching  fingers,  and  of  his 
fall  into  the  ravine. 

In  his  haste  and  excitement  Sneed  Parker  had  blun- 
dered. He  had  picked  up  from  the  ground  the  wrong 
hypodermic  syringe.  The  poison  prepared  with  such 
deadly  hate  had  not  entered  Frank  Merriwell's  arm. 
In  its  stead,  Parker  -had  injected  a  dose  of  the  morphia 
preparation  he  habitually  used  on  himself.  It  had 
thrown  Frank  into  a  deep  and  unnatural  sleep,  but  had 
not  otherwise  injured  him. 

Merriwell  sat  up  again,  in  spite  of  his  nausea  and 
the  pain  in  his  arm  and  side,  and  stared  toward  the 
camp-fire,  whence  came  the  sound  of  voices  that  he 
recognized.  The  camp  was  in  the  mouth  of  the  ravine. 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  it  touched  a  tire  of  the  bi- 
cycle, which  lay  beside  him.  Then  he  arose  stagger- 
ingly to  his  feet,  feeling  faint  and  weak. 

"I  must  have  lain  here  a  long  time,"  was  his  thought. 
"I  suppose  the  boys  came  hunting  for  me.  That's  Gal- 
lup talking  now.  And  I  must  have  fallen  like  a  house, 
I'm  so  shaken  up.  No  doubt  Parker  fancied  he  had 
killed  me,  but  I'm  worth  a  dozen  dead  men,  if  I  do 
feel  sore  in  every  joint.  My!  how  that  arm  aches!" 
He  paused.  "Hello,  there's  trouble!" 

"Yeou're  a  gol  dern  good  feller,  Mr.  Balder,  I 
haven't  a  mite  o'  doubt,  but  yeou'll  excuse  me  ef  I 
don't  set  daown  there,"  Merriwell  heard  Gallup  say, 


150  Lost. 

"I've  been  settin'  on  that  bicycle  till  it's  'most  hatched, 
an*  I'd  ruther  stand  up  a  spell." 

The  peculiar  manner  in  which  the  boy  from  Vermont 
said  this  quickened  Frank's  attention.  He  lookeu 
toward  the  fire  and  saw  Dunnerwust,  Toots  and  Mul- 
loy  squatted  in  a  row  before  the  fire,  occupying  places 
made  for  them  by  the  trio,  who  were  now  all  standing. 

Then  Frank  saw  the  big,  black-bearded  man,  ad- 
dressed by  Gallup  as  Balder,  signal  to  his  companions 
and  throw  himself  on  the  boy  from  Vermont. 

But  Balder  quickly  discovered  that  the  subjugation 
of  Ephraim  Gallup  was  not  to  be  the  easy  thing  he  had 
fancied.  When  attacked  the  b«y  from  Vermont 
aroused  himself  and  flailed  away  like  a  windmill. 

Gallup  had  been  suspicious  and  almost  on  the  point 
of  running  away.  Set  upon  by  the  big  fellow,  he  now 
put  forth  all  his  strength,  and  succeeded  in  hurling 
Balder  from  him. 

Toots  and  Mulloy  were  assaulted  at  the  same  mo- 
ment, while  Hans,  leaping  to  his  feet,  put  his  short  legs 
in  motion  and  ran  up  the  ravine  straight  toward  the 
point  where  Frank  Merriwell  stood. 

Merriwell  forgot  his  aches  and  injuries  on  behold- 
ing this  strange  scene,  and,  picking  up  a  stone,  he 
rushed  to  the  assistance  of  his  imperiled  friends,  at 
the  same  time  crying: 

"At  them,  fellows!  We've  got  them  now!  Cut 
them  off  from  their  horses!  Don't  let  one  of  them 
escape !" 

His  shouts,  and  the  patter  of  his  feet  and  Dunner- 


Lost.  1 5 1 

wust's,  were  echoed  by  the  walls  of  the  ravine,  mak- 
ing the  scoundrels  think  a  force  was  coming. 

"Git!     Scoot!"  commanded  Balder. 

With  the  words,  he  dashed  for  the  open  plain,  fol- 
lowed by  his  comrades,  all  three  running  as  if  their 
lives  depended  on  their  efforts. 

The  Dutch  boy  turned  back,  when  -he  heard  Merri- 
well's  voice,  and  Mulloy  and  Toots  picked  themselves 
bewilderedly  from  the  ground. 

Ephraim  Gallup  was  shaking  as  with  an  ague,  while 
Hans'  teeth  could  be  heard  to  rattle  like  dice. 

"Is  that  you,  Frank?"  Gallup  questioned.  "I  never 
was  so  thunderin'  sca't  in  all  my  life,  by  gum!  My 
knees  is  that  weak  an'  shivery  that  I'm  blest  if  I  don't 
think  I'll  haf  to  set  daown.  Do  yeou  s'pose  them  fel- 
lers air  goin'  yit?  I  hope,  b'gosh,  that  they'll  run 
clean  out  of  Oklahomy,  'fore  they  stop!  It'll  make 
me  feel  better." 

"Come  back  into  the  ravine,"  ordered  Merriwell. 
"I  don't  want  them  to  discover  how  few  we  are.  Stop 
your  howling,  Toots,  and  get  a  move  on  you!" 

In  the  darkness  of  the  place  the  story  of  how  Frank 
had  been  hurled  into  the  ravine  by  Sneed  Parker  was 
listened  to  by  them  with  indignation  and  amazement. 

"I  am  confident  that  those  three  fellows  are  fugitives 
from  justice,"  said  Frank,  when  the  talk  turned  back 
to  the  campers  and  their  strange  attack.  "When  I 
shouted  that  way  they  must  have  fancied  a  sheriff's 
posse  was  trying  to  surround  them,  and  that  your  com- 
ing was  only  a  trick  to  trap  them  more  effectively.  I 
don't  see  why  they  should  have  run  so,  otherwise.  If 


152  Lost. 

my  guess  is  right,  they  will  not  be  in  a  hurry  to  come 
back,  even  though  they  have  left  their  horses.  So,  if 
my  bicycle  isn't  smashed,  we'll  make  a  run  out  of  this 
and  try  to  get  back  to  Outline.  I'm  pretty  sore,  and 
I  don't  seem  to  have  much  more  strength  than  a  kit- 
ten, but  I'll  try  mighty  hard  to  make  the  ride,  and  I 
believe  I  can  figure  out  the  direction  from  the  stars." 

"Begobs,  it  will  be  betther  than  anny  one  av  us 
could  do,  thin!"  said  Mulloy.  "The  small  ixperience 
Oi've  had  thryin'  to  foind  a  thrack  acrass  these  pay- 
raries  makes  me  willin'  to  confiss  thot  Oi'm  a  failyure 
at  that  business.  The  doin's  av  that  Dr.  Parker  goes 
beyant  annything  Oi  ivver  heard  av  in  me  loife.  Oi'll 
take  pl'asure  in  helpin'  yez  murther  -him  for  thot,  Mer- 
riwell,  so  Oi  will!" 

"When  I've  wiped  my  feet  of  the  hull  clerned  coun- 
try, I'll  feel  better!"  said  the  boy  from  Vermont, 
gravely. 

"Eff  I  don'd  feel  der  same  vays,  you  vos  a  liar!" 
chimed  in  Dunnerwust.  "Id  vos  nod  some  gountrys 
to  haf  fun  in  loke  a  white  mans,  py  shimminy!" 

"Or  a  gem'm  ob  colah,  either!"  gurgled  Toots. 
"Mah  goodness,  no!" 

"The  wheel  is  all  right,"  said  Merriwell,  with  a  sipfh 
of  relief,  when  he  had  given  it  such  inspection  as  he 
could  in  the  gloom.  "Some  of  the  spokes  nre  bent, 
but  it  will  carry  me  all  right,  I  think.  Now,  if  we 
had  the  other  wheels  back  -here!" 

Toots  glanced  with  staring  eyes  toward  the  mouth 
of  the  ravine  and  drew  back,  a  movement  in  which  he 


Lost.  153 

was  imitated  by  Dunnerwust,  while  Gallup's  jaw 
dropped. 

"By  chaowder,  I  don't  like  the  idee  of  goin'  aout 
there,  but  I  allow  ef  it  has  to  be  done,  I  can  go  dew 
it." 

"Barney  and  I  will  bring  them  in,"  said  Frank.  "Be 
ready  to  mount  as  soon  as  we  come  back,  for  we  must 
get  out  of  here  without  delay." 

The  venture  was  successfully  made.  Not  a  sound 
was  heard  to  indicate  that  the  three  men  who  had  so 
wildly  fled  were  anywhere  near. 

A  few  moments  later  Frank  and  -his  friends  rode  out 
of  the  ravine  on  their  bicycles,  and  pedaled  swiftly 
away  in  the  course  figured  out  by  Frank  as  the  right 
•a* 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  ROBBERY   OF   THE  BANK. 

Guthrie  was  reached  in  the  gray  of  the  dawn.  After 
leaving  word  of  his  return  for  the  friends  who  might 
be  anxious  about  him  and  the  other  missing  members 
of  the  party,  Frank  went  to  his  room  and  to  bed,  for 
he  needed  rest  and  sleep.  He  was  still  sore  from  the 
effects  of  his  fall,  but  he  knew  he  would  be  all  right  in 
a  few  days,  and  his  heart  was  filled  with  gratitude  for 
his  preservation.  Yet  he  did  not  dream  'how  diabolical 
had  been  the  attempt  made  on  his  life  by  Sneed  Parker. 

He  was  still  undetermined  whether  to  make  public 
Parker's  murderous  assault  or  keep  it  a  close  secret 
among  his  friends  when  he  dressed  and  went  down- 
stairs for  dinner.  He  had  warned  those  with  whom 
he  had  ridden  home  from  the  ravine  to  say  nothing 
about  it,  and  he  knew  he  could  rely  on  them. 

The  Oklahoma  Hotel  was  already  filled  with  mem- 
bers of  the  gun  club  and  their  friends.  Whenever 
Frank's  party  was  known  to  be  there,  the  parlors  were 
thronged  with  their  admirers,  of  whom  thev  never 
seemed  to  have  a  greater  number  than  in  the  bustling, 
booming  little  city  of  Guthrie. 

To  the  many  questions  of  the  Guthrie  people,  Frank 
replied  briefly  that  he  followed  the  wolf  so  far  he  co'iM 
not  return  to  the  coyote  hunters,  and  that  he  then  fell 
in  with  some  members  of  his  party  who  were  turned 


The  Robbery  of  the  Bank.  155 

around  as  to  direction  and  wheeled  with  them.  He  did 
not  mention  Parker's  name,  but  he  learned  that  Parker 
was  in  town,  and  had  been  seen  on  the  streets  but  a 
short  time  before. 

The  gun  club  had  arranged  a  shoot  for  the  afternoon 
at  their  grounds  just  beyond  the  corporation  limits, 
and  Frank  Merriwell  and  Bart  Hodge  left  the  hotel 
immediately  after  dinner  for  the  purpose  of  targeting 
their  shotguns. 

This  they  did  by  setting  up  a  paper  target  marked 
with  a  thirty-six  inch  circle,  firing  at  it  at  a  distance  of 
thirty  yards.  If  the  shots  were  distributed  closely  and 
evenly  over  this  circle  and  the  penetration  *vas  good, 
the  gun  was  likely  to  give  satisfaction  in  the  shoot. 
If  the  shot  "bunched,"  three  or  four  being  together  in 
one  spot  and  a  half  dozen  together  in  another  spot, 
with  big  spaces  between,  or  if  not  enough  shot  were 
put  into  the  circle,  the  chances  were  that  in  shooting 
at  glass  balls  or  clay  pigeons  the  gun  would  do  the 
same.  Hence  the  shooter  might  draw  true  on  a  flying 
clay  pigeon  and  miss  it  clean,  the  pigeon  escaping  con- 
tact with  the  shot  by  reason  of  the  spaces  or  the  thin 
distribution  of  the  charge. 

Neither  of  Frank's  two  guns  gave  entire  satisfac- 
tion, though  Bart's  seemed  to  be  all  right.  One  of 
Crank's  girns  "scattered,"  or  spread  the  shot  too 
widely;  the  other  was  a  choke-bored  gun,  made  for 
close,  hard  shooting  at  long  range,  and  at  thirty  yards 
it  threw  the  shot  almost  in  a  mass. 

"You  might  as  well  use  a  rifle  as  that  thing,"  said 


156    The  Robbery  of  the  Bank. 

Hodge,  looking  at  the  "pattern"  made  by  the  gun  on 
the  target. 

"But  it's  the  one  I  shall  shoot,"  Merriwell  declared. 
"The  other  is  altogether  too  unreliable.  If  I  draw  on 
a  ball  with  this,  I'll  know  that  I'm  dead  certain  to 
get  it." 

"The  difficulty  is  to  draw  true  on  the  ball,"  Hodge 
objected. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  difficulty,  but  I  think  I  can  do  it 
most  of  the  time.  This  would  be  a  great  gun  for  ante- 
lope hunting,  or  coyotes.  By  the  way,  did  you  see 
Sneed  Parker  this  morning?" 

"Yes,  I  saw  him !"  Hodge  growled.  "I  was  walking 
with  Alice — with  Miss  Dean.  You  can't  imagine 
what  a  look  he  gave  me.  He  would  murder  me  if  he 
got  a  chance,  just  as  he  tried  to  do  you  last  night.  I 
don't  think  I  shall  be  able  to  get  out  of  this  town  with- 
out punching  his  head.  If  I  ever  do  jump  on  him, 
I'll  reckon  in  your  score  with  mine." 

"And  Miss  Dean?"  Frank  questioned. 

"She  is  just  the  nicest  girl !"  Bart  declared,  with  a 
flush.  "Did  you  ever  see  a  girl  that  could  ride  a  horse 
or  a  wheel  as  she  does?  She's  going  to  take  part  in 
the  shoot,  too,  this  afternoon,  she  told  me." 

"Then  I  shall  have  to  look  to  my  laurels!" 

Bart  laughed. 

"That's  just  what  you  will,  Merry,  in  my  opinion. 
I've  heard  a  number  of  people  say  that  she  is  an  un- 
commonly good  shot.  There  come  some  more  fellows, 
drawn  by  the  reports  of  our  guns!" 

The  shoot  was  set  for  two  o'clock,  and  when  that 


The  Robbery  of  the  Bank.  157 

hour  arrived  a  number  of  people  were  collected  on  the 
grounds.  Many  of  the  business  men  of  the  town 
were  there,  and  more  were  expected.  The  sports  and 
the  guests  of  the  Guthrie  Gun  Club  were  creating 
much  interest. 

But  Sneed  Parker  did  not  make  his  appearance  at 
the  opening  of  the  shoot,  and  Alice  Dean  was  also  ab- 
sent, to  the  great  regret  of  Bart  Hodge. 

Just  as  the  shooting  commenced  three  men  rode 
quickly  into  the  town  from  a  direction  opposite  the 
grounds  of  the  gun  club.  They  were  splendidly 
mounted  and  wore  black  cloth  half-masks.  The  one 
who  rode  in  front  and  was  apparently  the  leader  was  a 
large  man  with  a  black  beard. 

They  dismounted  in  the  narrow  street  at  the  rear 
of  the  Traders'  Bank  and  threw  their  bridle  reins  to 
the  two  half-breeds,  Indian  Joe  and  Jimmy  Crookleg, 
who  were  evidently  waiting  to  receive  then.  The  half- 
breeds  had  other  horses  saddled  and  in  readiness  at 
their  camp  across  the  street. 

At  the  same  moment  a  man  stepped  from  the  door- 
way, where  he  had  been  in  waiting,  and  joined  the 
three  horsemen  as  they  walked  toward  the  bank.  He 
was  dressed  in  rough  clothing,  had  gloves  on  his  hands, 
and  wore  on  his  face  a  mask  that  concealed  every 
feature. 

"Everything  has  worked  fine,"  he  whispered. 
"You're  just  in  the  nick  of  time.  Old  Dean  has  taken 
a  stroll  out  to  the  grounds  of  the  club  and  there's  no 
one  inside  but  the  teller." 

"Have  ye  got  ther  combination?"  the  black-bearded 


158          The  Robbery  of  the  Bank. 

man  asked.  "We  want  to  do  this  job  up  quick,  and 
light  out  'fore  the  men  at  the  shoot  gits  onto  us." 

"Trust  me  for  that,"  laughed  Parker.  "I  haven't 
been  chinning  the  old  gent  and  courting  the  girl  all 
this  time  for  nothing.  I  can  go  into  that  safe  as  easily 
as  the  cashier  himself." 

"Correct !  Come  on,  then.  We  don't  want  to  lose 
a  minute." 

He  stepped  through  the  rear  door,  dropping  a  hand 
to  his  hip  and  producing  a  big  revolver. 

The  others  imitated  his  example  and  crowded  close 
at  his  heels. 

The  teller,  who  was  bending  over  a  ledger,  with  his 
back  to  the  window,  faced  about  when  he  heard  their 
steps. 

The  next  instant  he  found  himself  looking  straight 
into  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver  held  by  the  black-bearded 
bandit. 

"No  monkey  bizness,  now,  er  I'll  put  a  bullet  plum 
through  you,"  was  the  stern  command.  "We're  hyer 
fer  the  stuff,  and  we're  goin'  to  have  it !" 

Though  the  teller  quailed  before  the  weapon,  he 
was  a  man  of  courage  and  fertile  brain.  He  believed 
the  robbers  would  not  shoot  him  for  fear  of  arousing 
the  town.  Thus  reckoning,  he  leaped  to  one  side  and 
dived  toward  a  desk  which  held  a  weapon,  intending 
to  fire  a  shot  as  an  alarm. 

This  movement  on  the  part  of  the  teller  somewhat 
disconcerted  the  robbers. 

The  black-bearded  man,  who  was  none  other  than 
Balder,  ran  around  the  railing  and  through  the  railing 


The  Robbery  of  the  Bank.  159 

door.  His  two  followers  -hurried  after  him.  But 
Sneed  Parker  leaped  over  the  railing,  with  a  springy 
bound,  and  was  the  first  to  reach  the  teller,  who,  with 
his  right  hand  thrust  into  a  drawer,  was  trying  to  get 
out  a  pistol. 

Parker  had  not  anticipated  this  resistance  and  it 
threw  him  into  a  rage.  He  flew  at  the  teller  and 
sought  to  hurl  -him  away  from  the  drawer  and  keep 
him  from  getting  the  weapon. 

Then  a  struggle  ensued,  which  was  not  ended  untii 
Balder  ran  up  and  hammered  the  teller  over  the  head 
with  the  butt  of  his  revolver,  speedily  reducing  him 
to  a  state  of  insensibility. 

The  masks  of  both  Balder  and  Parker  came  off  in 
the  struggle,  and  they  seemed  to  feel  that  they  could 
not  spare  the  time  to  put  them  on  again. 

"Quick!"  whispered  Parker.  "Scoop  up  the  bills 
and  change  from  the  desk,  while  I  unlock  the  safe !" 

He  turned  to  see  that  the  order  was  being  obeyed. 

At  that  instant  Alice  Dean  started  to  enter  the  bank 
by  the  front  door.  She  came  to  a  halt  in  the  doorway, 
a  cry  of  terror  issued  from  her  lips,  while  the  gun  she 
carried  fell  from  her  nerveless  hands.  She  had  recog- 
nized Sneed  Parker,  and  saw  that  he  was  assisting  in 
an  attempt  to  rob  the  bank.  Beyond  Parker  she  ob- 
served the  teller  lying  on  the  floor  as  if  dead. 

"Stop  her !"  Parker  commanded. 

One  of  the  men  ran  toward  her,  but  she  sprang  back 
into  the  street. 

Her  first  thoughts  were  of  her  father,  of  Frank 
Merriwell's  party,  and  of  the  members  of  the  gun  club. 


160    The  Robbery  of  the  Bank. 

"I  must  tell  them !"  she  panted.  "The  bank  is  being 
robbed,  and  Sneed  Parker " 

She  heard  the  thud  of  heavy  boots  behind  her,  and 
fear  lent  wings  to  her  feet.  The  bandit's  order  for 
her  to  halt  only  made  her  run  the  faster.  Across  the 
open  lot  in  front  of  the  bank  and  out  toward  the  com- 
mons she  scurried,  too  frightened  to  call  aloud,  be- 
lieving herself  closely  pursued. 

When  the  robber  saw  he  could  not  overtake  her 
without  a  lively  chase  he  ran  back  into  the  building. 

Sneed  Parker  was  down  on  his  knees  in  front  of  the 
safe,  working  at  the  combination. 

"There's  something  wrong  -here,"  he  heard  Parker 
say.  "No,  that's  it!  Have  you  got  the  other  money 
in  the  bag?  Then  bring  it  here,  quick!" 

The  door  of  the  safe  flew  open  and  Parker  thrust 
in  his  hands  and  began  to  pull  out  the  treasure.  Balder 
produced  a  canvas  bag  and  crowded  into  it  the  bank 
notes  and  coin  as  fast  as  they  were  produced. 

"No  use  to  run  after  that  girl,"  announced  the  ban- 
dit who  had  tried  to  overhaul  Alice.  "Couldn't  ketch 
her  no  more  than  a  whirlwind.  We'll  jist  git  on  the 
hosses  and  skedaddle  soon  as  you're  ready." 

Parker  leaped  up. 

"You  must  catch  her,  Balder !"  he  cried.  "She  saw 
the  faces  of  both  of  us.  We'll  be  hunted  down  and 
captured,  no  matter  where  we  go,  if  you  don't.  Don't 
let  her  reach  the  shooting  grounds.  Take  Indian  Joe's 
big  black  horse.  He  can  go  like  the  wind." 

Balder  caught  up  his  mask  and  put  it  on,  but  the 
string  that  held  it  in  place  was  broken  and  it  fell  off  as 


The  Robbery  of  the  Bank.  161 

he  mounted  the  black,  whose  bridle  rein  Indian  Joe 
tossed  to  him. 

An  alarm  seemed  to  be  spreading  through  the  town. 
Balder  felt  that  he  could  not  delay  a  moment  longer. 
He  set  the  black  in  motion,  and  tried  to  knot  a  red 
handkerchief  about  his  head  and  face  as  a  disguise,  but 
failed.  Then,  in  a  spirit  of  desperation,  he  plunged 
the  spurs  into  the  flanks  of  the  gallant  black  steed  and 
went  across  the  vacant  lot  like  an  arrow  shot  from 
a  bow. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
FEANK  MERRIWELL'S  SHOT. 

"That  was  a  pretty  shot,"  commented  Frank,  pick- 
ing up  his  gun  and  running  his  fingers  over  an  open 
box  of  loaded  shells.  "I  doubt  if  many  here  could  do 
that,  Mr.  Maloney.  One  of  those  flyers,  that  go  off 
like  that  at  a  tangent,  is  the  most  difficult  of  all  for 
me." 

The  shooting  was  under  way.  Out  in  front  of  the 
active  participants  two  clay  pigeon  "traps"  were  at 
work,  hurling  the  saucer-shaped  "birds"  swiftly 
through  the  air.  The  bang,  bang  of  the  guns  rang 
out  sharply. 

Frank  selected  two  shells,  or  cartridges,  flung  open 
the  breech  of  his  gun  and  inserted  them  in  the  barrels, 
closing  the  gun  with  a  snap. 

Maloney  stepped  aside  and  another  Guthrie  man 
went  forward  to  shoot.  Frank's  turn  came  next. 

Alice  Dean  was  already  on  the  grounds  of  the  gun 
club,  running  as  rapidly  as  her  trembling  limbs  could 
bear  her.  Behind  her,  but  much  farther  away,  rode 
Balder,  on  the  black. 

But  neither  of  them  were  seen  or  heard,  so  absorbed 
were  the  shooters  and  their  friends  in  the  gun  club 
contest.  The  crack  of  the  grins  served  also  to  keep 
the  hoofstrokes  of  Balder's  horse  from  being  noticed. 

Altec  Dean's  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  father,  who  was 


Frank  Merriwell's  Shot.  163 

advancing  leisurely  in  front  of  her.  But  her  father, 
looking  toward  the  men  standing  near  the  traps,  did 
not  at  first  hear  her.  It  was  not  strange  that  he  did 
not,  for,  though  she  tried  to  call  out  and  attract  his 
attention,  her  voice  scarcely  rose  above  a  panting 
whisper. 

But  the  thunder  of  the  hoofs  of  Balder's  horse  could 
not  long  escape  attention.  Silas  Dean's  ears  caught 
them  first,  and  he  turned  curiously  about,  without  a 
thought  of  what  he  was  to  see. 

He  reeled  and  came  near  falling  to  the  ground  when 
he  saw  his  daughter  pursued  by  that  rough-looking 
man,  from  whom  she  fled  in  such  terror.  But  he 
quickly  regained  control  of  himself  and  started  toward 
her,  shouting  loudly. 

The  shout  reached  Frank  and  the  others  gathered 
at  the  traps. 

"Balder!"  was  Merriwell's  ejaculation.  "What  can 
that  mean?" 

The  black  horse  was  now  only  a  few  yards  behind 
Alice  Dean,  and  Balder  was  leaning  from  the  saddle 
with  hand  outstretched  to  seize  her.  Her  steps  were 
fairly  tottering. 

Merriwell  took  in  everything  at  a  glance.  The  g-ir' 
in  shooting  costume,  with  short  skirts  and  fringed 
leggins,  the  white-haired  old  cashier  hurrying  toward 
her,  and  the  outlaw  thundering  down  on  the  black 
horse. 

Balder  swerved  the  horse  slightly,  drew  in  on  the 
rein,  and,  stooping  from  the  saddle  as  he  passed  the 


164  Frank  Merri well's  Shot. 

girl,  caught  her  about  the  waist  and  lifted  her  to  the 
horse  in  front  of  him. 

Alice  Dean  was  in  a  half  faint  and  incapable  of  fur- 
ther exertion.  She  lay  across  the  horse  without  a 
struggle  as  Balder  plied  the  spur  again  and  thun- 
dered on. 

"Save  my  daughter!"  cried  the  unhappy  father, 
racing  wildly  after.  "Will  not  some  one  save  my 
daughter  from  that  villain?" 

The  whole  scene  was  enacted  very  quickly.  The 
Guthrie  man,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  trap,  did  not 
understand  what  was  occurring  until  the  black  was 
thundering  by. 

But  Frank  Merriwell's  mind  and  hands  worked  with 
equal  quickness.  He  saw  that  the  only  way  to  stop 
the  horseman  was  to  kill  or  cripple  the  horse.  This  he 
could  not  hope  to  do  with  the  shot  charges  that  were 
in  -his  gun.  They  would  serve  to  stop  a  quail  or  rab- 
bit, but  nothing  that  was  much  larger. 

In  the  box  at  his  feet  were  two  or  three  shells  loaded 
with  buckshot.  There  was  talk  of  a  coyote  hunt  with 
guns  for  the  next  day,  and  the  Guthrie  dealer  who 
furnished  the  shells  had  put  in  these  buckshot  charges, 
requesting  Frank  to  test  them. 

Frank  snatched  up  one  of  these  shells,  threw  open 
the  breech  of  his  gun,  extracted  the  shell  that  held  the 
small  shot  and  inserted  the  buckshot  charge  in  its 
place. 

His  nerves  were  like  steel  as  he  threw  the  shotgun 
to  his  face  and  drew  down  on  the  running  horse. 

"I  must  shoot  low  or  I  may  hit  the  girl,"  he  reflected 


Frank  Merriwell's  Shot.  165 

"I'll  pull  for  the  horse's  heart,  and  if  I  get  that  ras- 
cal's leg  it  will  be  all  the  better." 

Then  he  firmly  pressed  the  trigger  and  the  gun  spite- 
fully roared  out  its  contents. 

No  hands  could  have  been  steadier,  no  aim  truer. 
At  the  crack  of  Merriwell's  gun  the  black  horse  pitched 
heavily  forward,  shot  through  the  heart. 

Balder  and  the  girl  were  hurled  from  the  horse's 
back.  Balder  tried  to  get  on  his  feet  and  draw  a 
weapon,  but  sank  down  with  a  cry  of  pain.  Some  of 
the  shot  had  penetrated  his  leg  and  shattered  the  bone. 
Seeing  he  must  submit  to  the  inevitable,  he  threw  up 
his  hands  and  surrendered  with  the  best  grace  pos- 
sible. 

Bart  Hodge  was  the  first  to  reach  Alice  Dean.  She 
lay  where  she  had  fallen,  limp  and  apparently  lifeless. 

"Water!"  Bart  cried,  supporting  her  head. 

It  was  brought  hurriedly  in  a  tin  dipper,  and  when 
Silas  Dean  gained  her  side,  half  delirious  with  anxiety, 
the  water  was  being  sprinkled  in  her  face,  and  she  was 
struggling  back  to  consciousness. 

"The  bank!"  Alice  panted,  as  soon  as  she  could 
speak.  "It  is  being  robbed!  I  ran  to  tell  you,  and 
he  caught  me.  Sneed  Parker  is  with  the  robbers!" 

The  information  came  like  the  explosion  of  a  bomb. 
There  was  a  moment  of  bewilderment  and  indecision, 
then  the  crowd  ran  wildly  in  the  direction  of  the  bank 

Before  they  reached  it  they  saw  five  men,  with  led 
horses,  ride  out  of  the  narrow  street  that  ran  in  the 
rear  of  the  building.  Two  of  the  men  they  recognized 
as  Indian  Joe  and  Jimmy  Crookleg,  and  they  knew 


1 66  Frank  Merriwell's  Shot 

from  the  statements  of  Alice  Dean  that  one  of  the 
others  was  Dr.  Sneed  Parker. 

"We  must  not  let  them  escape,"  cried  Merriwell, 
leading  the  way  on  a  run  toward  a  nearby  livery 
stable.  "Get  horses  and  follow  them  at  once!" 

T-he  telegraph  flashed  the  news  of  the  bank  rob- 
bery to  all  the  adjacent  towns,  and,  with  the  aid  of 
sheriffs'  posses  from  other  places,  Sneed  Parker  and 
his  companions  were  run  to  earth  the  next  day  and 
forced  to  surrender. 

The  money  taken  from  the  bank  was  recovered. 
And  Frank  and  his  friends,  the  guests  of  the  Guthrie 
Gun  Club,  were  publicly  thanked  for  the  heroic  part 
they  took  in  the  capture. 

Bart  Hodge  called  on  Alice  Dean  at  her  father's 
house  before  leaving  Guthrie.  She  was  quite  recov- 
ered from  the  shock  of  her  fall  from  the  horse  and  the 
excitement  she  had  undergone,  and  greeted  Bart  with 
a  warmth  that  made  his  heartbeats  quicken. 

"Perhaps  we  shall  never  meet  again,"  she  said,  as 
he  arose  to  go,  and  Bart  fancied  that  her  voice  trem- 
bled a  little. 

"If  you  want  me  to  come  again,"  said  Bart,  with 
sudden  boldness,  "rest  assured  I  shall  endeavor  to  do 
so.  Guthrie  is  not  far  from  the  East,  in  these  days  of 
railways  and  fast  trains." 

When  the  boys  left  the  town  all  were  in  a  thought- 
ful mood. 

"Sure,  an*  we  have  had  adventures  enough,"  sighed 
Barney.  "It's  mesilf  as  would  loike  a  rist." 

"I  guess  we  all  agree  with  you,"  smiled  Frank. 


Frank  Merri well's  Shot.  167 

It  had  been  decided  to  turn  toward  Arkansas,  as 
some  of  the  lads  wished  to  see  that  section  of  our  coun~ 
try. 

"All  right,  Arkansas  it  is,"  said  Bruce,  with  a  yawn, 
"But  no  more  adventures,  mind  that.  The  fellow  who 
stirs  up  an  adventure  gets  fined  ten  dollars." 

"That's  the  tay  to  walk,  no,  way  to  talk!"  cried 
Harry.  "No  more  adventures  until  we  get  back  to 
Yale." 

At  this  Toots  set  up  a  wild  laugh. 

"Gwine  ter  keep  out  ob  percitements,  hey?"  he 
roared.  "Not  much  you  ain't,  not  wid  Frank  Merri- 
well  along.  Why,  dat  boy  jess  libs  on  percitements, 
yo'  heah  dis  chile?" 

And  the  others  heard — and  had  good  cause  to  re- 
member only  a  few  days  later. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  RACE   THROUGH   THE   FOREST. 

"I'll  catch  that  chap  if  I  have  to  chase  him  all  the 
way  to  the  Mississippi!"  vowed  Frank,  exasperatedly. 

Frank  was  aroused.  He  had  not  believed  it  possible 
a  bicyclist  could  run  away  from  him  in  a  fair  race  on 
an  open  road. 

He  had  met  with  a  surprise. 

Four  times  he  had  nearly  overtaken  an  unknown  boy 
on  a  very  ordinary-looking  wheel,  only  to  have  the 
stranger  look  over  his  shoulder,  see  him,  and  spurt 
away  with  such  ease  that  Merry  scarcely  could  believe 
the  evidence  of  his  eyes. 

How  it  was  done  puzzled  Frank,  for  it  did  not  seem 
that  the  unknown  exerted  himself  to  his  utmost  to  ac- 
complish the  feat. 

"His  legs  must  be  run  by  steam,"  exclaimed  Merri- 
well ;  "or  there  is  a  hidden  motor  attached  to  that  ma- 
chine!" 

They  were  riding  through  Eastern  Arkansas  be- 
tween Brinkley  and  Forrest  City.  At  best,  the  roads 
were  bad,  and  in  places  they  were  wretched.  It  was 
a  poor  country  for  wheeling. 

Dense  forests  abounded,  and  low,  marshy  land  was 
everywhere.  At  Little  Rock,  Frank  and  his  party  had 
started  to  ride  to  Memphis,  with  the  object  of  attend- 
ing a  great  bicycle  meet  that  was  to  be  held  there. 


The  Race  Through  the  Forest.        169 

Before  the  White  River  region  was  reached  the 
boys  were  heartily  disgusted,  but  they  were  plucky  and 
did  not  like  to  give  up.  They  felt  sure  the  country 
was  as  bad  and  the  roads  as  wretched  as  possible.  It 
did  not  seem  possible  things  could  grow  worse  as  they 
went  on. 

They  had  left  Brinkley  together  for  a  run  to  Forrest 
City,  a  distance  of  forty  miles,  resolved  to  proceed 
from  the  latter  place  by  rail  if  the  roads  did  not  im- 
prove. 

Everywhere  they  met  negroes.  It  seemed  that,  out- 
side the  towns,  about  nine-tenths  of  the  population 
consisted  of  colored  people. 

Toots  had  shown  great  indignation  when  Rattleton 
had  suggested  that  they  might  lose  him  there,  as  it 
was  possible  he  would  become  enamored  by  some  dark- 
skinned  maiden. 

"G'way  dar,  boy!"  he  had  cried.  "What  you'  took 
dis  chile  fo' !  I's  a  cullud  gemman  ob  'finement,  an'  I 
don'  want  nuffin'  teh  do  wif  dis  lowdown  brack  trash. 
If  dar's  anyfing  'fensive  teh  me  it's  a  common  ignerant 
brack  nigger." 

Naturally  Frank  took  the  lead,  and,  happening  to 
feel  pretty  well,  he  set  a  hot  pace  for  the  others.  After 
a  time  they  fell  back,  and  he  was  alone  some  distance 
in  advance  when  he  discovered  another  boy,  mounted 
on  a  wheel,  riding  in  the  same  direction. 

The  stranger  was  pedaling  along  leisurely,  and 
Frank,  surprised  beyond  measure  to  see  a  wheelman 
there,  put  on  steam  to  overtake  him. 


170       The  Race  Through  the  Forest. 

"He  may  know  something  about  the  roads  between 
here  and  Memphis,"  thought  Merriwell.  "I'll  ask  him 
some  questions." 

As  Frank  drew  near  the  unknown  happened  to  look 
around.  Merry  saw  he  was  a  freckle- faced  youth  of 
seventeen  or  eighteen,  and  he  was  not  dressed  in  a  suit 
for  riding.  He  had  on  brown  clothes  which  looked 
as  if  they  were  not  very  old,  but  had  seen  rough  wear. 

Detecting  Frank,  the  stranger  gave  a  sudden  start, 
then  bent  over  the  low  handlebars  of  his  machine,  in- 
creasing his  speed  with  a  sudden  spurt  that  was  sur- 
prising. 

"Hello!"  shouted  Frank.     "What's  your  hurry?" 

There  came  no  answer,  and  the  rider  seemed  to  put 
on  more  speed. 

"Oh,  will  you!"  exclaimed  Frank,  half  laughing. 
"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that !  You  may  not  find  it 
such  an  easy  trick  to  lose  me." 

Then  he  entered  into  the  race  in  earnest,  determined 
to  run  the  stranger  down. 

Then  it  was  that  Frank  met  with  a  surprise,  for,  al- 
though he  was  doing  his  best,  he  soon  found  he  was 
not  gaining  on  the  stranger.  Worse  still,  he  discov- 
ered that  the  stranger  was  steadily  drawing  away. 

Setting  his  teeth,  Frank  worked  for  all  there  was  in 
him,  and  still  the  unknown  gained.  A  turn  of  the 
road  enabled  the  stranger  to  pass  from  view  in  the 
dense  forest,  and  Frank  did  not  see  him  again  for  more 
than  half  an  hour. 

Pedaling  steadily  along,  and  wondering  if  the  boy 


The  Race  Through  the  Forest.        171 

in  brown  had  not  slipped  into  the  forest  with  his  wheel, 
abandoning  the  road  to  let  him  pass,  Merry  suddenly 
discovered  him  once  more.  He  was  riding  along  leis- 
urely, as  before. 

Frank  was  on  his  mettle, 

"I'll  tire  him  out,  if  he'll  stick  to  it!"  he  muttered, 
as  he  whirled  along.  "He'll  find  it  isn't  so  easy  to  run 
away  from  me  again." 

But  the  stranger  looked  around,  saw  Frank  once 
more,  and  again  spurted  away  with  such  ease  that 
Merriwell  was  utterly  exasperated. 

"How  he  can  do  it  on  this  road  is  more  than  I  can 
understand,"  came  through  his  set  teeth.  "Either  he 
is  a  wonder  or  he  has  a  remarkable  bicycle  there." 

Four  times  did  the  boy  in  brown  permit  Frank  to 
almost  overtake  him  and  then  ride  away.  Frank 
strained  every  nerve,  and  it  is  certain  that  such  riding 
was  never  before  done  over  the  wretched  roads  of 
Eastern  Arkansas. 

Merriwell  would  not  give  up ;  he  continued  after  the 
unknown  with  dogged  persistency,  determined  to  run 
him  down  if  the  race  continued  to  the  Mississippi. 

It  did  not  seem  that  the  stranger  could  keep  up  his 
marvelous  speed,  for,  after  racing  away  from  Frank 
he  always  slackened  and  permitted  the  pursuer  to  ap- 
proach again. 

Frank  settled  into  a  steady,  hard  pull  that  enabled 
him  to  cover  mile  after  mile  ?t  high  speed,  refusing  to 
spurt  after  the  unknown  when  he  became  satisfied  that 
such  an  effort  was  useless. 


172       The  Race  Through  the  Forest. 

The  dismal  forest  was  on  each  hand.  The  ground 
was  low  and  marshy,  with  occasional  clearings,  where 
miserable  huts,  set  on  stilts,  were  surrounded  by  idle 
negroes. 

Wherever  there  were  streams  sawmills  could  be 
seen.  Some  of  these  mills  were  running,  and  the  black 
laborers  could  be  heard  chanting  in  a  droning  manner 
that  echoed  through  the  forest.  They  always  seemed 
to  chant  at  their  work,  but  they  did  not  sing. 

Sometimes  a  white  man  would  be  overseeing  the 
labor,  and  his  harsh  commands  would  break  in  on  the 
chanting.  Occasionally  the  boss  was  a  negro.  When- 
ever this  was  the  case  he  seemed  to  be  trying  to  drive 
the  laborers  even  harder  than  did  the  white  bosses. 

Frank  decided  that  the  eastern  part  of  Arkansas  was 
far  from  pleasant.  It  did  not  compare  favorably  with 
other  portions  of  the  State. 

The  boy  in  brown  seemed  exasperated  that  Frank 
should  pursue  him  so  closely.  There  was  something 
about  the  fellow's  back  that  impressed  Frank  unfavor- 
ably. One  of  his  shoulders  was  higher  than  the  other, 
and  his  head  was  set  to  one  side.  His  hair  was  a 
faded  red. 

"Perhaps  he  is  going  to  the  bicycle  meet  in  Mem- 
phis," thought  Frank.  Then  came  another  thought 
that  made  Merriwell  start: 

"By  Jove!  if  he  is,  he  can  capture  the  prizes  in  all 
the  races!  I  wouldn't  stand  a  show  in  a  short  race 
against  him." 

This  was  not  a  pleasant  thought,  for  Frank  had 


The  Race  Through  the  Forest.        173 

hoped  to  add  to  the  laurels  of  the  Yale  Combine  by 
carrying  off  first  honors  in  some  of  the  races. 

The  more  Merriwell  thought  about  it  the  more  un- 
easy he  became.  He  wondered  if  it  were  possible 
that  the  boy  in  brown  was  such  a  remarkable  rider, 
and,  after  meditating  over  that  point  somewhat,  he 
decided  that  the  fellow  had  a  remarkable  wheel. 

"It  must  be  geared  much  higher  than  mine,"  thought 
Frank.  "And  still  it  does  not  seem  to  cost  him  such 
a  great  effort  to  spurt  away  from  me.  By  the  way  he 
rides  I  should  not  call  him  an  expert.  Here  is  a  mys- 
tery." 

Finally  it  seemed  that  the  unknown  was  tempted  to 
stop  and  meet  Frank,  but  he  changed  his  mind  after 
wavering  a  bit,  and  drove  ahead. 

Frank  put  on  more  pressure  and  crowded  the  un- 
known. The  stranger  saw  this,  and  bent  to  the  work 
of  running  away  again. 

Bumping,  swaying,  slipping,  the  race  continued  over 
the  wretched  road.  Gaping  negroes  stared  at  the  two 
boys.  Wenches  threw  up  both  hands  and  seemed 
frightened.  Pickaninnies  screamed  for  fear  and  ran 
away. 

There  was  something  wild  and  exhilarating  about 
the  pursuit — something  that  made  Frank  forget  he  was 
sweating  from  every  pore  and  in  the  midst  of  miasma 
swamps,  where  the  ague  was  in  the  very  air. 

He  laughed  through  his  set  teeth. 

The  boy  in  brown  turned  a  bend  in  the  road  and 
disappeared,  still  bouncing  along  at  great  speed. 


174       The  Race  Through  the  Forest. 

Frank  came  to  the  bend  and  whirled  around  the 
curve. 

Then  he  came  near  running  over  something  stretched 
in  the  middle  of  the  road. 

It  was  the  boy  he  was  pursuing. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A   TRADE. 

The  mysterious  bicycle  lay  near  the  boy  in  brown. 
Both  were  motionless  now.  Swerving  quickly,  Frank 
shot  between  bicycle  and  boy.  Then  he  began  to  back 
pedal,  and  quickly  leaped  to  the  ground,  turning  about 
as  soon  as  possible  and  retracing  his  steps. 

The  boy  did  not  stir  or  look  up.  His  arm  was 
cramped  beneath  him  and  his  hat  was  smashed  down 
over  his  eyes. 

"He  took  a  tumble,"  said  Frank,  "and  he  is  hurt." 

In  a  moment  Merriwell  was  kneeling  at  the  side  of 
the  stranger.  He  turned  the  boy  over  and  pulled  the 
hat  from  his  eyes. 

The  stranger  groaned  and  opened  his  eyes,  looking 
at  Merriwell  in  a  dazed  way. 

"That  was  a  nasty  fall,  old  man,"  said  Frank,  cheer- 
fully; "but  I  think  you  will  be  all  right  after  a  bit. 
How  do  you  feel?" 

The  dazed  look  vanished  from  the  small,  foxy  eyes 
of  the  stranger.  He  sat  up,  rubbing  his  arm  and 
shoulder. 

"Gee!"  he  said,  making  a  wry  face. 

"Lucky  it  didn't  break  your  arm,"  declared  Frank. 

"Lucky  nothin'!"  grunted  the  other.  "Who  ever 
seen  such  a  road?  Well,  you've  caught  me." 


176  A  Trade. 

He  said  it  as  if  he  expected  something  unpleasant 
to  follow. 

"Yes,"  nodded  Frank ;  "I  was  bound  to  do  that,  if  I 
had  to  chase  you  all  the  way  to  Tennessee." 

"How'd  ye  know  I  was  goin'  to  Tennessee?  I  reck- 
oned ev'rybody'd  'low  I  was  goin'  t'other  way." 

Frank  laughed. 

"You  mean  everybody  who  didn't  see  you,"  he  said. 

"I  started  for  Texas,  and  I  reckoned  they'd  be  look- 
in'  for  me  in  that  direction.  I  got  too  funny.  I  was 
trying  to  tucker  you  out  chasin'  me.  This  time  I  was 
goin'  to  run  away  for  good,  but  I  was  throwed  before 
I  knowed  it." 

There  was  something  queer  about  the  stranger.  His 
eyes  were  shifty,  and  he  did  not  look  Frank  straight  in 
the  face.  He  continued  to  rub  his  shoulder,  but  looked 
around  at  his  bicycle,  as  if  he  longed  to  jump  up,  mount 
quickly  and  try  once  more  to  outride  Merriwell. 

"Why  didn't  you  hold  on  when  I  called  you?" 
asked  Frank. 

"Think  I'm  a  fool?" 

"Why,  no;  but " 

Then  the  stranger  began  to  look  Frank  over,  as  the 
latter  hesitated.  There  were  some  moments  of  silence, 
nnd  something  like  an  expression  of  relief  came  to  the 
freckled  face  of  the  boy  in  brown. 

"I  thought  I  knowed  you,"  he  said;  "but  I  don't 
know  but  I  was  mistaken." 

"I  scarcely  think  we  ever  met  before,"  said  Merry. 
"Where  are  you  from?" 


A  Trade.  177 

"Why,     I'm     from — I'm    from Don't    you 

know?" 

"No,  of  course  not." 

The  stranger  laughed.  It  was  not  a  pleasant  laugh 
but  there  was  relief  in  it,  as  Frank  plainly  saw. 

"Well,  I'm  from  Powhatan?" 

"Where's  Powhatan?" 

"And  you  don't  know  that?  Why,  it's  away  up 
north." 

"North?  Then  how  do  you  happen  to  be  traveling 
in  this  direction.  I  thought  you  came  from  some  place 
west." 

"It's  this  a-way,"  said  the  other  lad,  quickly,  with  a 
crafty  grin ;  "I  run  away." 

"Oh,  that's  it?" 

"Yep.     Started  for  Texas." 

"How  did  you  happen  to  run  away?" 

"How?  Why,  I  got  tired  of  stayin'  at  home. 
Wasn't  nothin'  there  fer  me,  anyhow.  Never  had  a 
dollar  of  my  own  anyhow." 

"Then  how  did  you  get  that  bicycle?" 

"That?    Why,  you  see  I— I  traded  for  it" 

"Traded— what?" 

"A — A  colt.  Dad  gave  me  a  colt,  and  I  traded  him 
for  the  bisuckle.  He  didn't  like  it,  and  he  was  goin'  to 
make  me  trade  back.  I  got  mad — didn't  want  to  give 
up  the  bisuckle — run  away.  See?" 

"Yes,  I  see;  and  you  thought " 

The  boy  in  brown  laughed  again,  and  that  laugh 
grated  on  Merry's  nerves. 

"I  thought  you  was  arter  me,"  he  confessed. 


178  A  Trade. 

"That's  why  you  ran  from  me?" 

"Course  it  was  You  look  like  a  feller — a  feller 
that  lives  up  nigh  Powhatan.  I  judged  dad  had  bot 
him  to  foller  me  on  his  bisuckle." 

"That's  queer.  Powhatan  must  be  a  long  distance 
A  w  i]  here.  What  authority  did  you  fancy  he  could 
have  to  bring  you  back?" 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know.  I  didn't  want  to  be  ketched 
anyway." 

"Well,  I  hardly  think  there  is  much  danger.  You 
can  cover  ground  pretty  fast.  That's  an  odd  wheel 
you  have.  What  make  is  it?" 

"Dunno.  I  don't  know  much  'bout  wheels  anyway. 
Guess  there  ain't  any  name  of  the  maker  on  it." 

"It's  built  like  a  racer,"  said  Merriwell,  as  he  lifted 
the  strange  wheel  and  looked  it  over,  "and  yet  it  is  dif- 
ferent from  anything  I  have  ever  seen.  It  is  geared 
high,  but  you  seemed  to  run  it  easy  enough  for  all  that. 
What  is  the  gear?" 

"Gear?     What's  that?" 

"Don't  you  know?" 

"Nope.  Tell  ye  I  ain't  had  it  long.  I've  alwus 
wanted  one,  but  dad  was  sot  against  it.  Jimminy! 
but  this  is  a  dandy  you've  got !" 

He  was  examining  Frank's  bicycle,  which  was  one 
of  the  very  best  machines  made,  and  had  always  been 
cared  for  as  tenderly  as  if  it  were  a  fine  horse. 

"That  must  have  cost  a  heap  of  money,"  said  the 
stranger.  "I  like  the  looks  of  them  handles  beter'n 
mine.  Mine  make  me  stoop  over  so." 

"This  wheel,"  said  Frank,  growing  more  and  more 


A  Trade.  179 

interested  as  he  continued  to  examine  it,  "was  built 
for  a  racer.  It  is  not  a  pleasure  wheel,  but  it  is  a 
dandy!" 

"It  can  go  pretty  good." 

"Let  me  try  it.  We're  going  in  the  same  direction. 
You  ride  my  wheel  a  while,  and  let  me  have  this.  Are 
you  all  right  so  you  can  ride  ?" 

"Yes,  I  judge  I'm  all  right,  though  I  bet  my  old 
shoulder  will  be  lame  to-morrer.  Reckon  my  hat  saved 
my  head.  I  don't  mind  tryin'  your  bisuckle." 

This  being  agreed  upon,  Frank  mounted  the  stran- 
ger's wheel,  while  he  sprang  on  Frank's,  doing  so  with 
awkwardness  that  pronounced  him  unskillful. 

They  rode  along  together,  Frank  somewhat  in  ad- 
vance. 

"Jimminy !"  cried  the  boy  in  brown.  "This  bisuckle 
is  great.  It  don't  bend  a  feller  over  so  his  back  will 
break  in  two." 

"These  handlebars  can  be  reversed,"  explained  Mer- 
riwell,  "so  the  rider  can  sit  up  straight.  Why  didn't 
you  do  that?" 

"Didn't  know  how." 

Frank  was  studying  the  wheel  beneath  him  critic- 
ally, and  it  did  not  take  him  long  to  decide  that  it 
was  a  wonder.  For  all  that  it  was  geared  so  high  it 
ran  quite  as  easy  as  his  own  machine,  and  it  could  be 
driven  much  faster. 

"If  I  had  this  wheel  I  wouldn't  do  a  thing  but  win 
any  race  I  entered,"  thought  Frank.  "I  wonder  if  it 
can  be  bought." 

The  more  he  thought  about  this  the  Wronger  became 


i8o  A  Trade. 

his  desire  to  possess  the  wonderful  wheel.  He  coulcf 
not  bear  to  think  of  giving  it  up,  and  he  began  to  feel 
a  genuine  attachment  for  it. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  wheel,  like  a  thing  of  life,  pos- 
sessed intelligence  and  was  in  sympathy  with  its  rider. 
It  was  like  a  fine  horse  that  knows  its  master  and 
seems  to  respond  to  all  his  desires. 

"What  will  you  take  for  this  machine?"  Frank  sud- 
denly asked. 

"Take  for  it?"  repeated  the  other  lad,  riding  some- 
what closer.  "I  won't  sell  it." 

Frank's  hopes  sank. 

"I  like  it,"  he  said,  "and  I  will  give  you  a  good 
price  for  it." 

"Then  were'd  I  be  without  any  wheel  at  all?" 

"Eh?  Why — why,  I'll  trade  you  mine.  What  do 
you  say  to  that?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"I'll  tell  you  frankly,"  Merriwell  said,  "I  like  this 
wheel.  It  is  not  a  wheel  for  pleasure,  but  it's  speedy. 
Now,  I've  got  money,  and  I  will  make  it  worth  your 
while  to  trade  with  me." 

If  Frank  had  not  been  riding  in  advance  he  would 
have  noted  the  look  of  surprise  that  came  to  the  face 
of  the  stranger.  That  look  was  followed  by  one  of 
craftiness. 

The  boy  in  brown  had  not  expected  that  Merriwell 
would  offer  to  pay  a  difference  between  the  two  bicy- 
cles. Instead  of  that,  he  had  fancied  Frank  would  ask 
something  in  exchange. 

He  had  been  pleased  by  the  fine  appearance  of  Mer- 


A  Trade.  181 

riwell's  machine,  and  still  more  pleased  by  the  fact 
that  he  could  sit  up  straight  in  the  saddle  and  give  hit 
tired  back  a  rest.  Then,  too,  there  seemed  to  be  some- 
thing much  more  easy  about  Merriwell's  saddle. 

But  it  was  plain  that  Frank  wanted  the  other  wheel, 
and  he  was  willing  to  pay  a  difference  between  the 
two. 

"Oh,  I  dunno's  I  want  to  trade,"  said  the  stranger. 
"I  guess  I  can  go  faster  on  that  bisuckle." 

He  said  this  as  if  he  did  not  feel  sure  about  it. 

"I  believe  he  thinks  he  can  run  away  from  me  on 
any  machine,"  thought  Frank.  "It  hasn't  dawned  on 
him  that  he  has  a  wonder  in  this  bicycle.  If  he  knew 
more  about  wheels  he  would  understand  it." 

For  five  or  ten  minutes  more  they  rode  along 
silently,  and  then  Frank  said : 

"I'll  give  you  twenty-five  dollars,  and  I'll  keep  this 
wheel,  while  you  may  keep  mine.  That  is  a  good 
offer." 

It  was  a  good  offer,  but  it  was  a  mistake.  Frank 
should  have  asked  the  other  boy  to  state  what  he  would 
take.  He  would  not  have  thought  of  asking  that 
much,  fearing  it  would  be  more  than  he  could  get,  and 
his  foxy  little  eyes  opened  wider  than  usual  with  sur- 
prise when  he  heard  Merry's  offer. 

As  soon  as  he  could  recover  from  his  astonishment, 
the  boy  in  brown  said: 

"Nop,  I  wouldn't  do  it  for  that." 

"Then  say  how  much  you  will  take,"  urged  Frank. 

"I  don't  want  to." 

"Why  not?" 


1 82  A  Trade. 

"I  reckon  I  don't  want  to  trade." 

"All  right.  I  don't  blame  you,  for  this  is  a  fast 
wheel.  I  did  not  want  to  take  an  advantage  of  you, 
and  that  is  why  I  offered  you  twenty-five." 

Then  Frank  rode  on  in  silence,  far  from  satisfied. 

The  stranger  was  no  less  satisfied,  for  he  began  to 
fear  that  Merriwell  would  change  his  mind  about 
paying  as  much  as  twenty-five  dollars.  At  last  he 
said: 

"Tell  ye  what  I'll  do." 

"All  right" 

"I  don't  want  to  let  that  wheel  go,  'cause  it's  the  first 
one  I  ever  had,  an'  I  traded  the  red  colt  for  it,  but " 

"But  what?" 

"If  you  want  ter  give  me  fifty  dollars  and  this  wheel 
for  that  one,  why,  it's  a  go." 

Then  he  caught  his  breath,  fearing  he  had  over- 
stepped the  limit. 

"It's  a  bargain!"  said  Frank  Merriwell,  promptly. 
"We'll  stop  right  here  and  settle  it.  You  shall  hare 
your  money  immediately." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A   STARTLING   DISCOVERY. 

They  stopped,  and  Frank  lost  no  time  in  handing 
ever  the  money. 

"Now  I  want  your  receipt  for  this,"  he  said,  "and  a 
statement  that  you  took  the  money  in  exchange  between 
the  wheels." 

"Oh,  what's  the  good  of  that?"  was  the  protest. 
"You've  got  the  wheel  and  I've  got  the  money.  That 
settles  it." 

"Not  much,"  came  firmly  from  Frank.  "You  must 
give  me  a  receipt." 

"What  if  I  won't?" 

"Then  you  must  give  me  the  money  back." 

"What  if  I  won't  do  that,  either?" 

"Then  I  will  make  you." 

There  was  no  mistaking  Frank's  meaning,  and  his 
firm  stand  quickly  convinced  the  boy  in  brown  that  he 
was  not  fooling,  so  he  agreed  to  sign  a  receipt. 

"You  make  it  out,"  he  said,  and  Frank  did  so. 

The  stranger  still  hesitated,  seeming  reluctant  to 
sign  it.  He  read  it  over  and  over,  spelling  out  the 
most  of  the  words. 

"Is  there  anything  the  matter  with  that?"  asked 
Frank. 

"No,  I  judge  not.     You  read  it." 

So  Frank  read  aloud: 


184  A  Startling  Discovery. 

"Received  from  Frank  Merriwell  the  sum  of  fifty 
dollars  ($50.00)  and  one  Traveler  bicycle  in  exchange 
for  my  wheel,  marked  'Flyer/  maker  unknown. 

(Signed)  "PHIL  DERRY." 

The  boy  in  brown  wrote  the  signature  with  consid- 
erable awkwardness,  holding  the  paper  on  his  knee. 

"There,"  he  said,  "is  that  satisfactory?" 

"That  is  all  right,"  answered  Frank,  as  he  folded 
the  paper  and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  "This  wheel  be- 
longs to  me  now." 

"Yes,"  nodded  Phil  Derry,  with  a  crafty  twinkle  in 
his  eyes,  "and  this  wheel  belongs  to  me.  That's 
right." 

They  mounted  and  rode  onward.  Derry  had  stuffed 
the  money  far  down  into  his  pocket,  his  manner  con- 
vincing Frank  that  he  believed  he  had  made  a  great 
bargain. 

"If  this  bicycle  proves  what  I  think  it  is,  I  have  made 
the  greatest  trade  of  my  life,"  mentally  decided  Merri- 
well. 

He  was  eager  to  give  the  wheel  a  trial,  and  soon  be- 
gan to  push  ahead.  To  his  surprise,  Derry  did  not 
attempt  to  keep  up,  and  Frank  was  not  long  in  run- 
ning away  from  him. 

The  bicycle  was  a  "flyer"  indeed,  as  Merry  found  it 
fairly  skimmed  over  the  ground  with  the  speed  of  the 
wind.  And  it  did  not  require  more  muscle  or  skill 
to  send  it  along  than  was  necessary  to  propel  the  best 
made  wheels  of  much  lower  gear. 

Frank  felt  that  the  manufacturer  of  the  wheel,  who- 


A  Startling  Discovery.  185 

ever  he  was,  had  hit  upon  a  discovery  from  which  he 
should  make  a  fortune. 

Although,  after  fairly  testing  the  bicycle,  he  slack- 
ened and  rode  at  ordinary  speed,  he  was  not  overtaken 
by  the  boy  in  brown,  nor  did  he  see  anything  more  of 
Phil  Derry  during  the  ride  to  Forrest  City. 

Frank  reached  the  latter  place  in  advance  of  his  com- 
panions, and  sought  the  best  hotel,  at  which  he  made 
arrangements  for  the  accommodation  of  the  party. 

Merriwell  secured  a  meal  and  was  comfortably  rest- 
ing in  the  office  of  the  hotel,  reading  a  Memphis  paper, 
when  his  friends  rode  up,  straggling  in  one  by  one. 

When  Hodge  appeared  in  the  lead,  Frank  went  out 
to  greet  them. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  Bart,  "you  must  like  to  scorch 
over  such  roads  as  these!  I  am  disgusted  with  riding 
in  this  section  of  the  country — heartily  so!" 

As  the  others  appeared,  all  expressed  their  feelings 
in  language  that  could  not  be  misunderstood. 

Hans  and  Bruce  were  the  last  to  arrive,  and  they 
came  up  slowly,  both  perspiring  freely  and  looking 
supremely  miserable. 

"Oh,  murder!"  groaned  Bruce.  "I  thougnt  we 
struck  some  hard  roads  going  West,  but  we  never 
found  anything  like  this.  I  am  worn  out  with  riding 
over  bumps  and  hollows  and  pushing  through  marshes. 
T  agreed  to  ride  across  the  continent  from  New  York 
to  San  Francisco,  but  I  didn't  agree  to  push  a  wheel 
coming  back,  and  risfht  now  I  give  notice  that  I  quit. 
You  fellows  may  call  it  sport,  but " 

"Sbort!"   squawked    Hans    Dunnerwust.       "Who 


1 86  A  Startling  Discovery. 

peen  fool  enough  to  call  him  dot  ?  Shown  me  to  him ! 
I  vant  to  seen  him!  Ef  dot  peen  der  kindt  uf  short 
dese  barty  is  oudt  to  found,  oxcuse  me!  I  liked  to 
saw  vood  a  great  deal  petter.  Yaw !" 

Frank  laughed  heartily. 

"I  will  confess  the  roads  are  somewhat  worse  than 
I  expected,"  he  said. 

"Worse!"  growled  Browning.  "Why,  they  are  the 
worst  ever  made!  And  the  country — all  woods  and 
swamp!  It's  a  wonder  if  we  don't  all  get  the  ague 
from  riding  through  such  a  section.  I  could  smell 
malaria  in  the  very  air." 

"Yaw !"  shouted  Hans ;  "I  could  smelled  dot,  too !" 

"The  rest  of  you  fellows  may  wheel  to  Memphis,  if 
you  like;  I  am  going  by  rail." 

"Yaw ;  you  may  rode  me  on  a  rail  to  Memvis,  or  any 
odder  old  blaces,  but  I  don'd  rode  mein  picycles." 

"I  am  going  to  take  a  car." 

"I  vas  goin'  to  took  a  whole  railroadt  drain!" 

"Well,  you  are  at  liberty  to  do  so,"  smiled  Frank; 
"and  I  rather  fancy  I  shall  travel  by  rail  myself.  I 
had  a  curiosity  to  see  this  part  of  the  country,  expect- 
ing to  find  the  negroes  working  on  the  cotton  planta- 
tions. I  have  seen  enough  of  it  to  satisfy  me.  There 
are  more  forests  than  cotton  plantations,  and  the  ne- 
groes do  not  seem  to  be  working  to  any  great  extent  at 
this  time  of  year.  Somehow,  all  the  poetry  that  I 
fancied  I  should  find  in  the  ride  is  missing,  and,  as 
there  is  nothing  depending,  making  no  particular  rea- 
son why  we  should  stick  to  it,  I  am  willing-  to  give  it 
up  any  time." 


A  Startling  Discovery.  187 

The  others,  as  well  as  Bruce  and  Hans,  were  de- 
lighted to  hear  this,  and  straightway  it  was  decided  to 
travel  on  to  Memphis  by  rail. 

Then  Frank  asked  them  if  they  had  seen  the  boy  in 
brown  on  the  road,  but  Phil  Derry  had  not  been  seen 
by  any  of  them. 

"That  is  rather  singular,"  commented  Merriwell. 
"I  do  not  believe  he  has  come  into  this  place." 

"He  must  have  come  here  or  we  should  have  seen 
him,"  said  Diamond. 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  He  acted  rather  peculiar. 
I  should  not  have  been  able  to  overtake  him  if  he  hadn't 
been  thrown  from  his  wheel." 

"What's  that?"  shouted  Rattleton.  "Wouldn't 
have  been  able  to  overtake  him — you?  Wheejiz!  Do 
you  expect  us  to  believe  you  struck  some  fellow  who 
could  run  away  from  you  on  a  wheel  ?" 

"That's  what  I  struck,"  admitted  Frank,  amused 
by  Harry's  excitement. 

"Lot  on  your  nife — I  mean  not  on  your  life!  You 
can't  make  me  believe  that!  What  sort  of  a  jolly  are 
you  giving  us?" 

"It  is  no  jolly,  fellows.  I  did  my  best  to  overtake 
him,  and  four  times  he  ran  away  with  ease.  Even 
then  I  should  not  have  caught  him,  but  he  was  thrown 
from  his  bicycle  and  stunned." 

"Wai,  he  must  be  a  dandy!"  said  Ephraim  Gallup. 

"Faith !  Oi'd  loike  to  put  me  two  oies  on  th*  chap !" 
cried  Barney  Mulloy. 

"I'd  rudder  see  dat  boy  dan  a  circus,  chilluns!"  de- 


i88  A  Startling  Discovery. 

dared  Toots.  "He  must  hab  chain-lightnin'  in  his 
legs — yes,  sar!" 

"There  was  nothing  at  all  wonderful  about  him,'' 
assured  Frank.  "He  was  a  new  rider,  and  was  in  an 
ordinary  brown  suit  of  clothes." 

"A  new  rider?"  came  from  Diamond.  "Look  here, 
Merriwell,  I  will  confess  that  I  do  not  understand  when 
you  are  joking  and  when  you  are  not.  This  may  be 
a  joke.  You  say  I  do  not  appreciate  any  joke,  and 
I'll  be  hanged  if  I  appreciate  this!" 

"It  is  no  joke;  it  is  the  sober  truth." 

"Pwhat  do  yez  mane  by  sayin'  th'  b'y  in  brown  wur 
a  new  roider,  Frankie?"  asked  Barney,  curiously. 

"Just  that." 

"A  granehorn  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Not  used  to  roidin'?" 

"Exactly." 

"An'  he  could  roon  away  f rum  yez  ?" 

"He  did." 

"Then  it's  th'  Ould  Nick  he  must  have  bin,  or  his 
whale  wur  run  by  ilictricity !" 

Frank  laughed  again,  and  confessed : 

"Well,  fellows,  it  was  his  wheel  that  did  it." 

Then  there  was  a  stir. 

"But  your  wheel  is  the  best  in  the  market!"  cried 
Hodge. 

"With  the  exception  of  mine,  it  is  the  best,"  admit- 
ted Diamond;  "and  no  greenhorn  can  run  away  from 
Frank  Merriwell  on  my  wheel." 

"What  wheel  did  he  have?"  grunted  Bruce,  who 


A  Startling  Discovery.  189 

was  no  less  astonished  than  the  others.  "What  was 
the  make?" 

"I  never  heard  of  the  wheel  before,"  said  Frank. 
"It  was  simply  marked  'Flyer/  and  I  do  not  know 
who  manufactures  it.  It  could  fly,  too." 

"Well,  I'd  like  to  take  a  look  at  that  wonderful 
wheel,"  said  Hodge. 

"Thot's  phwat  Oi'd  loike  ter  do  mesilf,"  cried  Bar- 
ney. 

"Yaw!"  nodded  Hans,  emphatically;  "I  vould  done 
dot  uf  I  got  a  chance." 

"I'd  a  sight  ruther  see  it  than  ther  biggest  squash 
that  ever  was  showed  at  a  caounty  fair,"  declared  Eph- 
raim. 

And  the  others  expressed  themselves  in  a  similar 
manner. 

"Well,"  smiled  Frank,  "I  think  you'll  be  able  to  see 
it.  It  is  here  in  this  hotel." 

"Here?"  exploded  the  excitable  Diamond.  "How 
does  that  happen  ?" 

"I  thought  you  said  the  boy  in  brown  did  not  come 
into  town,"  Rattle-ton  cried. 

"I  did  say  so,"  nodded  Frank. 

"Then  how " 

"I  have  the  wheel  he  was  riding.     We  traded." 

"Traded?" 

"Yes.     I  gave  him  fifty  dollars  between  them." 

"Fifty  dollars  \"  gasped  Rattleton.  "And  yours  was 
a  high-grade  wheel !  Frank,  you  must  be  groolish  or 
fazy — I  mean  foolish  or  crazy!" 

"I  was  neither.     With  that  wheel  I  expect  to  win  in 


190  A  Startling  Discovery. 

any  race  I  may  enter.  I  believe  I  have  made  the  best 
trade  of  my  life." 

"By  gum!"  grinned  Ephraim.  "He  won't  do  a 
thing  to  the  other  chaps  in  the  races  at  Memphis.  The 
Southern  Wheelmen  will  find  they  have  struck  a  hot 
baby  from  the  North." 

"If  I  race  on  that  wheel  and  win,  I  shall  feel  that  I 
am  indebted  to  the  South  for  it,"  said  Frank;  "for 
didn't  I  find  the  wheel  here  in  the  South  ?  Perhaps  it 
was  made  down  here  somewhere.  Come  on,  fellows, 
if  you  want  to  take  a  look  at  it" 

They  followed  hirn^  and  he  led  the  way  into  the 
room  set  apart  for  trunks  and  baggage,  Toots  alone 
being  left  outside  to  stand  guard  over  their  wheels. 

"There!"  cried  Frank,  pointing  to  a  wheel  that 
stood  against  the  partition;  "take  a  look  at  it!  There 
it  is!" 

The  boys  gathered  around  it,  staring  at  it  in  curi- 
osity. Hodge  was  the  first  to  utter  an  exclamation : 

"Why !"  he  cried ;  "I  thought  you  said  you  did  not 
know  the  maker  of  this  machine?  Everybody  knows 
this  machine!" 

"Eh?"  gasped  Frank.  "Everybody?  Well,  they 
lay  over  me!  I  never  saw  it  before — or  one  like  it." 

"Why,  yes  you  have!  Rattleton  rides  one  exactly 
like  it,  and  he  has  the  heaviest-running  wheel  in  the 
combine!" 

"Rattleton?     Get  out!     Why,  his  wheel  is " 

"A  Blizzard,  and  this  is  a  Blizzard." 

"Blizzard?  Why,  get  away  and  let  me  see!  It's 
marked  'Flyer!'  What's  this  mean,  anyhow?" 


A  Startling  Discovery.  191 

Frank  had  quickly  pushed  forward  and  was  examin- 
ing the  bicycle. 

"This  is  not  my  wheel !"  he  cried.  "This  is  not  tlie 
bicycle  I  traded  for!  Where  is  my  machine?  Boys, 
it  is  not  here — it's  gone!  Gone — and  this  thing  has 
been  left  in  its  place!"  j 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

WHO   WAS   THE  THIEF? 

For  once  in  his  life,  Frank  Merriwell  showed  un- 
usual excitement.  He  would  not  have  been  thus 
aroused  had  his  life  been  in  deadly  peril. 

"Somebody  has  stolen  my  bicycle,  and  left  this  other 
one  in  the  place  of  it!"  he  cried.  "But  I'll  have  that 
bicycle  back  if  it  costs  me  ten  thousand  dollars  and  a 
year  of  my  time!" 

He  was  in  earnest,  and  his  unusual  excitement 
aroused  his  companions  thoroughly.  When  Frank  ap- 
peared like  that,  something  was  wrong. 

Frank  felt  that  he  had  been  robbed  of  something 
very  dear  to  him.  In  the  short  time  that  it  had  been 
in  his  possession,  Frank  had  learned  to  treasure  his 
new  wheel  beyond  price. 

It  was  gone,  and  with  it  had  vanished  all  his  hopes 
of  astonishing  the  Association  of  Southern  Wheelmen, 
whose  "Grand  Meet"  was  to  be  held  in  Memphis  two 
days  later. 

Vanished — no!  The  thief  should  not  get  away! 
He  would  pursue  the  scoundrel. 

Pursue  him!  He  might  do  that,  but  it  was  pretty 
certain  he  would  not  overtake  him,  in  case  the  thief 
was  a  skillful  rider.  Mounted  on  the  Flyer,  the  thief 
could  get  away  with  ease. 

Frank  thought  of  this,  but  he  would  not  give  up. 


Who  Was  the  Thief?  193 

The  thief  would  not  be  able  to  ride  faster  than  elec- 
tricity could  carry  a  message.  The  telegraph  should 
cut  him  off. 

Merry  dashed  into  the  office  and  called  for  the  clerk. 
A  sleepy  boy  said  the  clerk  was  around  somewhere. 
Frank  shook  the  boy  smartly  to  awaken  him,  thrust  a 
quarter  into  his  hand  and  told  him  to  find  the  clerk  in 
a  hurry. 

In  a  short  time  the  boy  appeared,  and  the  clerk 
wearily  followed  him,  looking  pale  and  thin  and  hol- 
low-eyed, as  if  he  had  just  recovered  from  a  severe  at- 
tack of  "shakes." 

"My  bicycle,"  said  Frank,  swiftly  but  distinctly — 
"it  is  gone!" 

"Really,  suh,"  said  the  clerk,  with  apathetic  inter- 
est, "you  don't  say  so,  suh?" 

"But  I  do!"  cried  Frank.  "It  has  been  taken  from 
the  baggage-room  of  this  hotel  since  I  left  it  there." 

"Really,  suh,"  murmured  the  clerk,  "you  astonish 
me,  suh." 

"I  shall  hold  this  house  responsible  for  that  wheel  if 
it  is  not  recovered,"  said  Frank. 

"Really,  suh,"  said  the  clerk,  "we  decline  all  re- 
spunsibility,  suh." 

"But  it  was  taken  from  the  baggage-room  of  this 
hotel — taken  since  I  arrived  here.  Another  wheel  was 
left  in  its  place.  Some  other  person  must  have  been 
here  since  I  came." 

"Yes,  suh,"  acquiesced  the  clerk ;  "there  was  a  young 
gentleman  heah  while  you  were  at  youah  dinner,  suh." 

"He  rode  a  wheel?" 


194  Who  Was  the  Thief? 

"Yes,  suh." 

"And  went  away  on  a  wheel?" 

"Yes,  sun." 

"He's  the  fellow  I'm  after!  He's  got  my  bicycle, 
What  did  he  look  like?" 

"He  was  dressed  in  brown  clothes,  suh,  and " 

"The  boy  in  brown!"  shouted  Frank.  "Phil  Deny! 
He  has  stolen  the  wheel!  He  keeps  my  fifty  dollars, 
but  tries  to  get  the  wheel  back !  Which  way  did  he  go? 
Do  you  know?" 

"He  asked  about  the  road  toward  Blackfish,  suh." 

"Blackfish— that's  east  on  the  railroad?" 

"Yes,  suh." 

"How  far?" 

"Twelve  miles,  I  judge." 

"Perhaps  he  hasn't  gone  through  Blackfish  yet," 
palpitated  Frank.  "I'll  wire  to  have  him  stopped 
there.  He  won't  get  away  with  my  bicycle !  I'll  have 
that  wheel  back!  Where's  the  telegraph  office — 
quick?" 

The  clerk  was  bewildered  with  such  excitement  and 
vehemence.  He  was  not  accustomed  to  it.  Slowly 
and  with  exasperating  lassitude,  he  gave  directions  for 
finding  the  telegraph  office.  Then  he  stared  as  he  saw 
Frank,  with  a  brief  expression  of  thanks,  rush  away, 
fly  out  of  the  door  and  go  speeding  like  a  deer  along 
the  street. 

Frank  found  the  telegraph  office,  bounded  in,  awak- 
ened the  sleepy  operator,  grabbed  a  pad,  scribbled  a 
message,  tore  off  the  sheet,  thrust  it  at  the  staring 
telegrapher. 


Who  Was  the  Thief?  195 

"Here !"  he  exploded,  "send  that — instantly !  Great- 
est importance!  Must  go  right  away.  Excuse  my 
haste,  but  you'll  understand  when  you  read  it." 

The  operator  took  the  message  and  glanced  lan- 
guidly over  it,  as  if  there  was  no  reason  in  the  world 
why  he  should  hurry.  He  read  it  aloud : 

"To  Sheriff  or  Constable,  Blackfish,  Ark. :  Stop  and 
hold  boy  in  brown,  riding  bicycle  marked  'Flyer,'  and 
coming  from  Forrest  City.  Bicycle  stolen.  Will  be 
there  in  one  hour.  FRANK  MERRIWELL." 

"Sixty  cents,  please,"  said  the  operator. 

Frank  paid,  and  then  he  urged  the  operator  to  send 
it  at  once,  so  the  thief  would  not  get  through  Black- 
fish  before  the  message  arrived.  When  he  saw  the 
young  man  at  the  instrument  he  departed. 

Frank  hurried  back  to  the  hotel.  The  boys  were 
waiting  for  him.  They  knew  he  would  return  in  a 
hurry. 

"Who's  with  me?"  he  cried.  "I'm  off  for  Blackfisli 
to  see  if  I  can't  recover  my  wheel.  Have  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  officer  there." 

Browning  groaned  in  an  agony  of  spirit,  and  Hans 
nearly  fainted. 

"Why,  we  haven't  had  time  to  rest  at  all !"  gasped 
the  big  fellow. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !"  gurgled  the  Dutch  boy. 
"Uf  dese  don'd  peen  der  death  uf  me,  I  don'd  know 
mineself !" 

The  others  were  ready  enough  to  start. 


196  Who  Was  the  Thief? 

Frank  ran  into  the  hotel,  settled  his  bttl,  secured 
the  wheel  the  thief  -had  left,  and  came  hustling  out. 

"Come  on!"  he  cried.  "All  who  are  ready  to  help 
me  run  down  the  rascal  follow!" 

Then  there  was  a  hasty  mounting  of  bicycles,  and 
away  the  party  dashed,  strung  out  in  a  long  line. 

Hans  was  the  last  to  start,  and  he  made  a  ludicrous 
spectacle  as  he  pumped  away  in  frantic  pursuit  of  the 
others,  muttering: 

"Shimminy  Gristmas!  uf  this  don'd  peen  der  death 
uf  me,  I  peen  tougher  than  dot  Guthrie  shack  rab- 
bits! Yaw!" 

Frank  did  not  wait  for  the  others,  but  he  soon  found 
he  was  not  mounted  on  a  first-class  wheel,  and  he  had 
not  gone  three  miles  before  the  pace  and  the  hot  sun 
began  to  tell  on  him. 

"Oh,  if  I  had  my  original  wheel!"  he  muttered 
"Then  I'd  be  able  to  stand  this!" 

Then  it  was  that  a  new  thought  flashed  through  his 
mind,  giving  him  a  great  shock. 

If  it  was  Phil  Deny  who  had  stolen  his  Flyer  then 
he  must  be  mounted  on  the  wheel  which  he  had  traded 
with  Deny! 

This  wheel  was  a  Blizzard,  and  he  had  never  owned 
a  Blizzard  in  his  life! 

In  the  excitement  during  the  effort  to  find  out  what 
had  become  of  his  Flyer  he  had  not  thought  of  that. 
It  added  another  element  of  mystery  to  the  case. 

If  not  Phil  Deny,  who  had  taken  his  wheel?  and 
why  was  it  stolen? 

The  Blizzard  he  was  riding  made  a  far  better  ap- 


Who  Was  the  Thief?  197 

pearance  than  Frank's  new  wheel,  and  it  was  not  at 
all  likely  that  an  ordinary  rider  would  think  of  get- 
ting a  better  wheel  by  changing  without  making  an 
investigation. 

Was  it  possible  Phil  Derry  had  exchanged  the  wheel 
he  obtained  from  Frank  for  a  Blizzard  during  the  short 
time  since  the  trade  in  the  forest,  and  then  found  an 
opportunity  to  change  again  for  the  Flyer? 

By  the  time  Frank  had  ridden  five  miles  he  could  un- 
derstand why  a  stranger  might  wish  to  exchange  the 
Blizzard  he  bestrode  for  another  bicycle,  even  though 
the  other  bicycle  did  not  look  as  well  to  the  eye  of  the 
casual  observer. 

The  bicycle  he  was  riding  ran  hard  and  was 
"cranky."  It  was  as  full  of  tricks  as  a  bucking 
broncho,  and  twice  was  Frank  thrown  to  the  ground. 
Fortunately,  he  was  not  seriously  hurt,  although  the 
second  fall  lamed  him  somewhat. 

Browning,  despite  his  natural  laziness,  was  a  splen- 
did rider.  Next  to  Hans,  he  had  started  last,  but  as 
he  warmed  up  he  forged  by  the  others,  and,  before  five 
miles  had  been  covered,  was  riding  with  Frank. 

At  Frank's  second  fall,  Bruce  shot  ahead,  Merriwell 
crying : 

"Go  on!  go  on!     Catch  the  thief!     I'm  all  right!" 

Browning  understood,  and  so  he  became  the  leader 
in  the  race. 

Frank  mounted  quickly  and  hurried  after  Brown- 
ing, who  vanished  from  view  in  the  gloomy  forest. 
Within  ten  minutes  he  came  upon  Bruce  and  a 


198  Who  Was  the  Thief? 

stranger,  the  latter  being  a  youth  of  eighteen  or  nine- 
teen. 

Beside  the  road  lay  two  bicycles.  In  the  middle 
of  the  road  were  the  big  college  lad  and  the  other  fel- 
low. Bruce  had  the  other  by  the  collar,  and  was  shak- 
ing him  as  a  terrier  might  shake  a  rat. 

"Try  to  steal  a  wheel  of  this  party,  will  you !"  Brown- 
ing growled,  much  as  an  angry  dog  might.  "Why, 
confound  you!  I  have  a  mind  to  shake  you  out  of 
your  skin !" 

One  glance  Frank  took  at  the  stranger. 

It  was  not  Phil  Derry! 

The  stranger  wore  a  brown  bicycle  suit,  much  like 
the  one  Frank  had  on.  He  was  trying  to  say  some- 
thing, the  shaking  he  was  receiving  causing  him  to 
chatter  out  the  words. 

"Hold  on  a  mum-mum-mum-minute.  I  cue-cue 
cue-can  expup-pup-plain  it  all!  I  tut-tut-took  the 
wheel  by  mum-mum-mum — good  gracious!  stop — by 
mum-mum-mistake!  Oh,  my  goodness!  Ow!  I've 
bitten  my  tongue !" 

"Oh,  this  is  solid  satisfaction  for  me!"  grunted 
Bruce,  as  he  continued  to  shake.  "Made  me  get  all 
covered  with  perspiration  chasing  you,  eh?  Made  me 
exert  myself  and  pant  and  swear  and  eat  dirt  and  en- 
danger my  life  riding  over  these  infernal  roads !  Haw ! 
I'm  not  half  through  with  you  yet!" 

"If  you'd  lul-lul-let  mum-mum-me  explain!  Wait! 
I  cuc-cuc-cuc-can  satisfy  you." 

"Oh,  a  chap  that'll  steal  a  bicycle  can  lie." 


Who  Was  the  Thief?  199 

"Bub-bub-but  I  won't  lie — there's  no  reason  fuf-fuf- 
for  it." 

But  Browning  was  so  incensed  that  he  would  not 
have  stopped  for  some  time  had  not  Frank  interfered. 

Jumping  quickly  from  the  bicycle,  Merriwell  caught 
hold  of  the  stranger  and  pulled  him  from  Browning's 
grasp  with  surprising  promptness  and  ease,  sharply 
crying: 

"Won't  you  let  him  speak  for  himself,  Bruce  ?  Let's 
hear  what  he  has  to  say." 

"Thank  you !"  murmured  the  strange  lad,  still  gasp- 
ing for  breath,  as  he  pulled  himself  together.  "That 
fellow  is  a  perfect  bear !  He's  strong  as  a  giant,  and  I 
didn't  have  a  show." 

He  was  a  rather  good-looking  chap,  with  a  face  that 
struck  Frank  as  being  honest.  His  eyes  were  blue  and 
steady,  with  no  shifty  light  in  them  or  sign  of  craft. 

"What's  the  use  to  listen  to  him?"  growled  Brown- 
ing. "Of  course  he'll  lie  about  it." 

The  stranger  had  been  pale  as  if  frightened,  but 
now  he  flushed.  Drawing  himself  up,  he  cried: 

"No  Welling  ever  told  a  lie,  suh !" 

"Haw !"  grunted  Bruce. 

For  all  that  he  had  received  such  a  shaking,  the 
stranger  seemed  inclined  to  fly  at  the  big  fellow,  but 
held  himself  in  check.  The  insinuation  that  he  would 
lie  seemed  to  start  his  temper  even  more  than  it  had 
been  aroused  by  the  rough  handling  given  him  by 
Browning. 

"It  was  my  wheel  he  took,  Bruce,"  said  Frank, 


200  Who  Was  the  Thief? 

calmly.  "If  I  am  willing  to  listen  to  his  explanation, 
you  should  not  say  anything." 

"Oh,  all  right!"  came  wearily  from  Browning.  "I 
have  nothing  more  to  say !  Go  ahead !" 

"Now,"  said  Frank,  as  he  released  the  strange  lad, 
"I  am  willing  to  hear  any  explanation  you  want  to 
make." 

The  others  were  coming  up,  one  by  one,  dismounting 
as  they  arrived,  and  gathering  about  Frank  and  the 
unknown. 

"My  explanation  is  that  I  took  your  wheel  by  acci- 
dent, sir,"  said  the  other,  looking  Frank  squarely  in 
the  eyes.  "That  may  seem  remarkable,  but  it  is  true. 
I  stopped  at  Forrest  City,  leaving  my  bicycle  in  the 
hotel  while  I  went  out  to  send  a  dispatch  to  my  sister, 
telling  her  when  I  would  be  home.  When  I  came 
back,  I  took  the  wrong  wheel.  That's  all  there  is  to 
it." 

"Haw!"  grunted  Browning,  contemptuously. 

Frank  was  thoughtful.  He  studied  the  face  of  the 
strange  lad. 

"It  seems  to  me  he  is  telling  the  truth,"  was  his 
thought.  Aloud,  he  said : 

"It  is  rather  remarkable  that  you  should  not  have 
discovered  the  difference  in  the  wheels  till  you  had 
ridden  so  far." 

"It  is,"  agreed  the  strange  lad;  "but  I  did  discover 
it  finally,  and  I  was  riding  back  to  Forrest  City  when 
I  met  this  big-  chap,  who  stopped  me,  yanked  me  off 
my  wheel,  and  shook  me  up  generally." 


Who  Was  the  Thief?  201 

"You  were  coming  back?"  exclaimed  Frank,  catch- 
ing at  the  words. 

"Yes,  suh." 

"Is  this  right,  Bruce?" 

"Well,"  said  Browning,  reluctantly,  "he  was  riding 
toward  Forrest  City  when  we  met." 

"I  wondered  that  my  wheel  ran  so  smooth,"  said 
the  stranger.  "But  you  know  wheels  have  whims,  or 
seem  to,  and  sometimes  they  will  go  along  nicely  on 
an  ordinary  road,  while  at  other  times  they  will  pump 
hard  on  a  good  road  without  any  apparent  reason. 
My  wheel  is  full  of  such  freaks,  and,  when  I  noticed 
how  nice  it  was  running,  I  thought  at  first  that  it  was 
in  an  unusually  good  humor.  It  was  only  when  I  set 
out  to  make  a  spurt  that  I  was  astonished  and  began 
to  look  it  over  to  see  why  it  was  going  twice  as  fast 
as  it  ever  did  before.  Then  I  found  it  was  not  my 
wheel.  Immediately  I  turned  around  and  started  to 
ride  back  to  Forrest  City." 

This  was  told  in  a  manner  that  convinced  Frank 
the  stranger  spoke  the  truth,  remarkable  though  it 
was  that  he  had  not  made  the  discovery  before. 

"I  believe  you,"  said  Frank,  -holding  out  his  hand, 
"and  I  am  sorry  Browning  gave  you  such  a  shaking." 

The  face  of  the  strange  lad  lighted  up,  and  he  smiled 
in  a  most  pleasant  manner. 

"Thank  you!"  he  cried,  grasping  Frank's  hand.  "A 
fellow  feels  powerful  mean  when  he  finds  he  has  made 
such  a  break,  and  it  is  a  clean  knockout  when  he  finds 
himself  regarded  as  a  thief  and  a  liar.  I  was  hurry- 
ing to  get  back  to  Forrest  City,  for  I  knew  I  could 


202  Who  Was  the  Thief? 

straighten  it  out  all  right  if  I  brought  the  bicycle 
right  back." 

"Well,  don't  let  it  worry  you  any  more.  Where 
do  you  belong?" 

"In  Memphis.  My  name  is  Charlie  Welling,  and 
my  father,  Judge  Welling,  is  known  everywhere  in  this 
part  of  the  country.  He  is  one  of  the  directors  of  the 
Bank  of  Commerce  and  a  member  of  the  Tennessee 
Club.  I  can  give  you  any  sort  of  references  you  may 
desire." 

"I  do  not  desire  any,  Mr.  Welling,  and  I  regret  very 
much  this  unpleasantness.  My  name  is  Frank  Mer- 
riwell." 

"Eh?  Frank  Merriwell?  Not  the  Yale  Frank 
Merriwell  I  have  read  so  much  about  in  the  papers?" 

"Yes,"  said  Frank,  smiling  and  blushing  at  bit,  "the 
same." 

With  an  exclamation  of  delight,  Charlie  Welling 
grasped  Frank's  hand  once  more. 

"By  Jove!  this  is  the  greatest  pleasure  of  my  life, 
su-h!"  he  cried.  "I  never  expected  to  meet  you,  Mr. 
Merriwell.  Why,  I  wouldn't  have  missed  this  for  a 
hundred  shakings  such  as  I  received." 

He  was  in  earnest;  all  could  see  that.  His  heartv 
admiration  of  the  great  all-around  athlete  of  Yale  was 
breezy  and  refreshing  while  it  was  natural. 

Then  Frank  introduced  him  to  the  other  lads  and 
he  shook  hands  with  them  all.  Toots  excepted.  The 
last  to  come  forward  was  Bruce  Browning,  looking 
supremely  disgusted  with  himself. 

"Mr.  Welling,"  he  drawled,   "you're  all  right  I 


Who  Was  the  Thief?  203 

think,  and  I  made  a  mistake.  I  apologize,  but  you 
understand  I " 

That  was  quite  enough  to  soften  Charlie  Welling 
toward  the  giant  with  the  strength  of  a  grizzly  bear. 

"Don't  say  another  word,  suh!"  he  cried.     "I  can 

.nderstand  how  you  felt  about  it.     You  thought  you 

had  caught  a  thief,  and  you  were  giving  him  what  he 

deserved.     Don't  say  another  word,   Mr.   Browning, 

suh!" 

Then  all  fell  to  joking  over  the  adventure  which  had 
terminated  so  pleasantly. 

They  learned  that  Charlie  Welling  was  a  member 
of  the  principal  cycling  club  of  Memphis,  besides  be- 
longing to  the  Southern  Wheelmen's  Alliance  and  the 
L.  A.  W. 

He  learned  they  were  going  to  Memphis  to  attend 
the  big  bicycle  meet,  and  he  immediately  promised 
them  the  hospitality  of  the  Memphis  Cycle  Club  when 
they  arrived. 

Then  they  turned  about,  and,  mounting  their  wheels, 
rode  along  together  toward  Blackfish. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
AN  OFFICER'S  MISTAKE. 

Frank  felt  so  good  to  get  on  his  Flyer  once  more 
that  he  challenged  them  to  follow  him  into  Blackfish, 
having  done  which,  he  proceeded  to  run  away  from 
them  in  a  hurry,  successfully  demonstrating  all  the 
superior  points  he  had  claimed  for  his  bicycle. 

Merriwell  rode  into  the  little  hamlet  of  Blackfish, 
which  was  nothing  but  a  station  on  the  L.  R.  and  M. 
railroad  having  a  collection  of  three  or  four  houses. 

A  horseman  met  Merriwell  and  blocked  the  road. 

"Hold  on,  you,  suh!"  he  cried,  commandingly. 

Frank  did  not  stop. 

"Give  me  my  share  of  the  road,  that's  all  I  ask,"  he 
cried,  having  had  some  unpleasant  experiences  with 
Arkansas  squatters,  not  a  few  of  whom  seemed  preju- 
diced against  all  wheelmen. 

"Hold  on,  you,  suh !"  repeated  the  man  on  the  horse. 
"I  want  you!" 

"Well,  I  am  going'  to  the  station.  You  will  be  able 
to  find  me  there,"  said  Frank,  who  did  not  relish  t-V 
idea  of  dismounting  for  every  squatter  who  took  a 
fancy  to  order  him  to  do  so. 

"Yo'll  stop  right  now,  suh!"  harshly  cried  the  ma", 
as  rie  produced  a  pistol  and  pointed  it  at  Frank.  "If 
yo*  don't  a  bullet  will  stop  veh !" 

Frank  stopped  and  dismounted. 


An  Officer's  Mistake.  205 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  he  angrily  ex- 
claimed. "What  do  you  mean  by  pulling  a  pistol  on 
me?" 

"I  mean  that  yo'  are  under  arrest,  suh!" 

"Arrest?"  gasped  Frank,  utterly  astounded. 

<?Yes,  suh,"  nodded  the  lank  squatter,  rolling  a  huge 
chew  of  tobacco  over  his  tongue;  "jest  that,  suh.  And 
now  yo'il  march  along  in  front  of  me,  suh,  with  that 
bisuckle.  I'm  an  officer,  and  yo'  are  caught." 

"But  what  is  the  charge  against  me?  Why  am  I 
arrested?" 

"For  stealin'  that  bisuckle,  suh,"  said  the  man  on 
the  horse,  grimly.  "I've  got  your  description,  an'  yo' 
are  the  one.  March!" 

Frank  marched.  He  knew  it  would  not  do  to  fool 
with  an  Arkansas  squatter  who  fancied  he  was  deal- 
ing with  a  criminal  and  had  the  law  on  his  side. 

But  Frank  was  indignant 

"Look  here,  confound  you !"  he  said.  "I  can  prove 
that  this  wheel  belongs  to  me.  Just  give  me  a  show." 

"March!"  commanded  the  man  on  the  horse. 

"Say,  you're  making  a  blithering  fool  of  yourself! 
What's  the  use?  Why  don't  you  give  me  a  chance  to 
explain?" 

"March!" 

So  Frank  trudged  along,  trundling  the  wheel.  As 
he  did  so,  a  new  thought  came  to  him,  and  he  broke 
into  laughter,  much  to  the  surprise  of  his  captor. 

"Say,"  called  the  boy,  over  his  shoulder,  "are  you 
a  constable?" 

"Yes,  suh." 


206  An  Officer's  Mistake. 

"I  thought  so.  You  received  a  message  a  short 
time  ago  from  a  fellow  who  signed  himself  Frank 
Merriwell?" 

"Yes,  suh." 

"He  told  you  to  capture  a  boy  in  brown,  who  had 
stolen  a  bicycle?" 

"Yes,  suh ;  an'  yo'  are  the  boy." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  rang  out  Frank's  clear  laughter. 
"Oh,  my!  What  a  joke?  The  fellows  will  guy  me 
to  death  over  it!  Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

The  boy's  laugh  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  was  really 
heartily  amused,  and  the  man  on  the  horse  grew  un- 
easy, for  it  was  very  strange  that  a  captured  thief 
should  laugh  in  that  way. 

"Stop  yo'  laffin',"  he  commanded. 

"How  can  I ?"  cried  Frank.  "Ha !  ha!  ha !  Really, 
this  is  too  funny  for  anything!" 

"Yo'  won't  think  it  funny,  suh,  when  I  am  done  with 
yo'." 

Frank  continued  to  be  merry,  permitting  the  man 
to  march  him  up  to  the  little  railway  station.  The 
station  agent  was  on  the  platform,  waiting  for  them 
to  aoproach.  He  was  a  small,  thin  youth. 

"Waal,  Bill,"  he  said,  "I  see  yo've  got  him." 

"Yo'  bet!"  nodded  the  constable.  "I  caught  the 
cuss,  but  he's  mighty  queer.  He's  been  laffin'  'bout  it 
an'  callin'  it  a  good  joke.  What  yo'  think  of  that, 
Lamson?" 

"He's  tryin*  to  bluff  ye.  Bill,"  declared  the  station 
a^ent,  as  he  stepped  from  the  platform  and  surveyed 
Frank  at  closer  range.  "He's  dressed  in  brown— 


An  Officer's  Mistake.  207 

that's  all  right."  Then  he  took  a  look  at  the  name  on 
Frank's  wheel.  "And  this  is  the  bisuckle  that  was 
stolen,  suah  'miff.  It's  marked  'Flyer.'  Yo'  are  all 
right,  Bill." 

"Gentlemen,"  laughed  Frank,  "the  joke  is  on  me — I 
acknowledge  it." 

"Then  yo'  own  up  yo'  stole  the  bisuckle?"  asked  the 
constable,  eagerly. 

"Hardly.     It  belongs  to  me." 

"That  bluff  won't  go." 

"I  will  prove  it  to  you.  I  am  Frank  Merriwell, 
who  sent  the  message  to  you." 

At  this  both  the  constable  and  the  station  agent 
looked  incredulous  and  shook  their  heads,  grinning. 

"I  will  prove  it,"  said  Frank,  with  confidence. 
"Look  here,  I  can  repeat  that  message  word  for  word." 

He  proceeded  to  do  so. 

"There,"  he  said,  "if  I  did  not  send  that  message, 
how  could  I  repeat  it?" 

Both  men  looked  puzzled,  but  it  was  plain  they  were 
not  convinced. 

"Oh,  yo'  found  out  somehow  that  it  was  sent,"  said 
the  constable. 

"How  could  I  find  out?  There  is  no  telegraph  sta- 
tion between  here  and  Forrest  City.  If  I  stole  the 
wheel  I  was  on  my  way  here  when  that  message  was 
sent,  and  there  was  no  possible  way  for  me  to  know 
about  it." 

The  listeners  looked  puzzled,  and  Frank  continued: 

"The  whole  thing  is  plain  enough.  I  will  tell  you 
how  it  happened.  The  fellow  who  took  my  wheel 


208  An  Officer's  Mistake. 

wears  a  brown  suit.  He  took  it  by  accident,  leaving 
a  wheel  of  his  own  behind.  With  my  friends,  I  pur 
sued  and  met  him  on  the  road.  He  was  returning  to 
restore  the  wheel  to  me,  having  discovered  his  mis- 
take. So  it  came  about  that  I  got  my  wheel  back 
without  much  trouble.  Are  you  satisfied?" 

The  constable  looked  at  the  station  agent,  and  the 
station  agent  looked  at  the  constable.  Their  faces  wore 
a  blank  expression.  At  last,  the  constable  said : 

"No,  suh,  I'm  not  satisfied,  suh!  If  yo'  are  tellin' 
the  truth,  I'm  not  satisfied.  I  have  been  put  to  con- 
sid'ble  trouble,  an'  I  must  have  my  pay  fo'  it,  suh. 
But  I  am  not  satisfied  that  yo'  are  not  the  thief." 

"Then  I  will  try  to  satisfy  you  by  absolute  proof. 
The  message  was  signed  Frank  Merriwell.  Look  here, 
sir — here  are  my  letters,  such  as  I  have  seen  fit  to  carry 
in  my  pockets,  all  addressed  to  Frank  Merriwell.  That 
should  be  enough." 

He  handed  over  several  letters  to  the  constable. 

"More  than  that,"  he  added,  quickly  stripping  off 
his  bicycle  coat  and  showing  the  inside  of  his  collar, 
"here  is  my  name  marked  on  this  garment.  But  that 
is  not  all,  for,  in  a  very  short  time  a  party  of  friends 
will  arrive,  all  of  whom  can  vouch  for  me." 

With  this  statement,  Frank  calmly  sat  down  on  the 
platform,  seeming  to  enjoy  the  perplexity  of  the  two 
men. 

The  constable  passed  back  Frank's  letters,  then  mo- 
tioned with  his  hand  for  the  station  agent  to  step  aside 
with  him.  They  put  their  heads  together  and  con- 


An  Officer's  Mistake.  209 

versed  in  low  tones,  the  officer  keeping  his  pistol  ready 
for  use  and  watching  Frank  all  the  while. 

Before  this  consultation  was  over,  Diamond  and 
Hodge  came  into  sight  and  rode  toward  the  station. 
Before  they  arrived,  others  of  the  party  were  seen 
coming. 

"By  Jove!  Merry,"  cried  Hodge;  "that  wheel  is  all 
you  claim  for  it.  We  did  our  best  to  keep  in  sight  of 
you,  but  you  walked  away  from  us  easily." 

"That's  right,  Merriwell,"  nodded  the  Virginian; 
"and  you  did  not  seem  to  be  working  so  very  hard, 
either.  You  have  a  wonder  in  that  wheel.  But  what's 
the  matter,  anyhow?" 

As  the  others  came  up,  Frank  drew  his  face  down 
and  looked  very  sad  and  dejected,  even  though  he  was 
laughing  inwardly. 

"I'm  arrested,"  he  explained. 

Hodge  and  Diamond  staggered,  having  dismounted 
from  their  wheels. 

"Arrested?"  gasped  Bart 

"Arrested?"  shouted  Jack. 

Frank  nodded  dolefully. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "arrested  at  the  mouth  of  a  pistol.'* 

"For  what?"  palpitated  Hodge. 

"By  whom?"  fluttered  Diamond. 

"You  are  horsing  us !"  they  both  declared  in  chorus. 

"No,"  murmured  Frank,  slowly  shaking  his  head 
and  jerking  his  thumb  over  -his  shoulder.  "The  man 
with  the  whiskers  and  boots  arrested  me.  He's  an 
officer." 

"He's  a  chump !"  exploded  Hodge,  angrily. 


210  An  Officer's  Mistake. 

"What  is  the  charge  against  you  ?"  asked  Jack. 

"Stealing." 

"Stealing  what?" 

"My  own  bicycle." 

"Well,  hang  him!" 

The  others  were  coming  up.  Now  that  the  excite- 
ment was  over  Browning  -had  lost  all  his  energy,  and 
he  was  dragging  along  behind  them  all,  looking 
wretched  and  forlorn. 

There  was  great  excitement  when  the  boys  under- 
stood what  had  happened.  At  first  they  were  inclined 
to  regard  the  matter  seriously,  but  Rattleton  detected  a 
twinkle  in  the  corners  of  Merri well's  eyes,  and  he 
cried : 

"Fellows,  this  is  a  jowling  hoke — I  mean  a  howling 
joke!  I  don't  believe  Merry  is  arrested  at  all!  He's 
put  up  a  job  on  us." 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  convince  Harry  that  this 
was  not  true,  but  Frank  protested  that  he  actually 
was  under  arrest  for  stealing  his  own  bicycle. 

Then  the  boys  began  to  see  the  ludicrous  side  of  the 
affair,  and  they  shouted  with  laughter. 

That  made  the  constable  angry. 

"Laff!"  he  cried.  "Somebody  will  pay  me  for  my 
trouble.  I  was  instructed  to  arrest  a  boy  in  brown, 
ridin'  a  'Flyer'  wheel,  an'  I  done  it.  Now,  somebody 
has  got  to  fork  over  before  I  let  him  go." 

That  aroused  Browning  once  more.  The  big  fel- 
low had  dismounted  from  his  wheel  and  was  wiping 
hrs  perspiring  face  with  a  handkerchief.  Into  his 


An  Officer's  Mistake.  211 

pocket  went  the  -handkerchief.  Up  to  the  constable 
he  heavily  stalked. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  "if  you  know  what  is  real 
healthy  for  you,  you  will  chase  yourself.  I  am  not 
feeling  very  good-natured  myself,  and  I'd  really  enjoy 
having  a  little  scrap  with  you.  Put  up  that  gun!" 

The  constable  hesitated. 

"Put  up  that  gun !" 

Bruce  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes.  There  was 
something  about  the  big  fellow  that  caused  the  con- 
stable to  obey. 

"Who's  goin'  to  pay  me  fo'  my  time?"  he  half  whim- 
pered. 

"Your  time  must  be  valuable!"  contemptuously  re- 
turned Bruce.  "You  may  charge  the  bill  to  the 
county." 

"The  county  won't  pay  it,  suh,  an'  I'll  never  git 
anything  fo'  my  trouble.  I  ain't  even  got  enuff  ter 
get  a  plug  of  twist,  an'  I'm  all  out." 

Frank  pitied  the  squatter. 

"Here,"  he  said,  "I  caused  you  all  this  trouble,  and 
I'll  pay  you  a  dollar  for  it.  Is  that  satisfactory?" 

The  squatter  brightened  up,  saying: 

"Suh,  that  is  puffecly  satisfactory,  suh.  I  see  now 
that  I  made  a  mistake  with  yo',  an'  I  judged  all  along 
that  yo'  looked  too  much  like  a  gentleman,  suh,  to  be 
a  thief." 

Thus  it  was  settled. 

The  boys  learned  when  the  next  eastbound  train 
would  be  along,  and  found  they  had  an  hour  to  wait 


212  An  Officer's  Mistake. 

They  spent  that  hour  in  the  shelter  of  the  station,  where 
they  could  escape  from  the  hot  sun. 

The  next  train  was  flagged  and  the  boys  got  aboard. 
Their  wheels  were  taken  into  the  baggage  car,  for  all 
railroads  in  Arkansas  carry  bicycles  free  as  regular 
baggage. 

It  was  a  jolly  party  that  bade  the  station  agent  and 
the  constable  farewell,  waving  their  hands  and  hand- 
kerchiefs at  him.  The  negroes  who  had  gathered  at 
the  station  on  the  approach  of  the  train  stared  in  as- 
tonishment 

"Waal,  said  Bill  Jennings,  the  constable,  when  the 
train  had  disappeared,  "I  got  a  dollar  out  of  it  any- 
way, though  I  knowed  that  feller  wasn't  a  thief  the 
minute  I  looked  at  him.  I  kin  tell  a  thief  by  the  looks 
of  him — even  a  black  chicken  thief." 

He  looked  straight  at  one  of  the  negroes  as  he  made 
this  observation,  and  the  darky  gave  a  start,  quickly 
turning  and  walking  away. 

"Hit  him  that  shot!"  muttered  Bill,  as  he  went  into 
the  station  and  stretched  himself  on  a  settee  for  a  nap, 
leaving  his  thin  old  horse  outside  in  the  shade. 

For  nearly  two  hours  Bill  slept  and  snored.  He  was 
aroused  by  being  fiercely  shaken. 

"Wh — what's  the  matter?"  he  asked,  in  a  dazed 
way. 

The  excited  station  agent  was  bending  over  him. 

"Look  here,  Bill!"  shouted  the  station  agent,  "yof 
are  a  blame  fool!" 

"Hey?"  said  the  constable,  sitting  bolt  upright 
"Who  says  so,  sun?" 


An  Officer's  Mistake.  21) 

"I  say  so,  suh!" 

"Waal,  suh,  why  should  yo'  say  so,  suh?" 

"Because  yo'  let  that  bisuckle  thief  go." 

"Let  him  go?     Why,  he " 

"He  stole  that  bisuckle!     I  know  it  now!'* 

"How  do  yo'  know  it?" 

"I  just  listened  to  a  message  that  went  through  the 
office,  calling  for  his  arrest  if  he  appears  in  Memphis. 
That  wheel,  marked  Flyer,  was  stolen  from  a  chap  by 
the  name  of  Mortimer  Swett.  It's  the  only  one  of  the 
kind  in  existence.  The  feller  that  yo'  arrested  was 
the  thief." 

"Waal,"  said  Jennings,  "darn  if  I  didn't  think  so  all 
the  time,  though  he  did  look  so  slick.  He  had  the 
'pearance  of  a  thief." 

"Waal,  you  jest  missed  a  haul,  Bill,  for  Mortimer 
Swett  offers  a  hundred  dollars  reward  for  the  arrest 
of  the  thief  an'  recovery  of  the  bisuckle." 

"Suh,"  said  Bill,  in  supreme  self-contempt,  "will  it 
be  too  much  trouble  fo'  yo'  to  kick  me  as  hard  as  yo' 
can?" 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

AN   ADVENTURE  IN    MEMPHIS. 

"Memphis     Memphis!" 

The  boys  had  crossed  the  Mississippi  and  reached 
the  city  that  stood  on  the  bluffs  that  lined  the  eastern 
shore.  The  train  was  drawing  into  the  station. 

"Wai,  if  I  ain't  glad  to  git  aout  of  Arkansaw !"  said 
"Ephraim  Gallup.  "Parts  of  that  State  is  all  right,  but 
near  the  river  it's  so  bad  I  wisht  I  was  to  hum  on  the 
farm." 

"Hurrah!"  burst  forth  Rattleton,  as  the  train  came 
to  a  stop.  "Here  we  are,  fellows!" 

"And  I  am  home  again!"  exclaimed  Charlie  Well- 
ing, who  had  accompanied  them.  "It  is  good  to  get 
home." 

"Yaw,  I  pelief  me,"  nodded  Hans ;  "but  I  peen  a  long 
dime  away  from  dot." 

The  boys  hurriedly  left  the  car  for  the  station  plat- 
form, laughing  and  joking.  It  was  a  jolly  crowd,  and 
they  attracted  considerable  attention. 

"It's  a  cycle  club  come  to  the  meet."  commented  the 
spectators.  "They  'a*  got  a  nigger  along  to  look  out 
for  their  wheels." 

As  the  boys  were  looking  over  the  wheels  that  were 
taken  from  the  baggage  car,  each  selecting  his  machine 
when  it  came  off,  two  men  in  civilian  garb  stood  near, 
watching  them  closely. 


An  Adventure  in  Memphis.          215 

Frank  was  speaking  to  Charlie  when  the  Flyer  was 
removed  from  the  car,  so  he  did  not  claim  it  at  once. 
Charlie  had  invited  him  to  call  at  his  home. 

The  two  men  looked  sharply  at  Frank's  wheel  and 
then  exchanged  significant  glances,  each  having  seen 
the  name. 

Frank  had  his  check  in  his  hand.  The  baggage  man 
had  been  removing  the  checks  as  fast  as  he  received 
the  wheels,  for  each  owner  stood  ready  to  claim  his 
machine.  In  this  instance  he  did  the  same  thing. 

"Number  3117 — whose  bicycle  is  this?"  he  called. 

Frank  thrust  the  check  into  his  -hand,  saying: 

"I  will  take  that." 

In  a  moment  the  two  men  were  on  either  side  of 
Merriwell. 

"Is  that  your  wheel?"  asked  one. 

Frank  looked  surprised. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  answered. 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

There  was  something  about  the  question  that  aroused 
Merry's  resentment.  He  did  not  like  it. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  "I  don't  think  that  is  anything  to 
you." 

The  hand  of  the  man  on  his  right  fell  on  his  shoulder. 

"Oh-o!"  exclaimed  the  owner  of  the  hand. 

The  hand  of  the  man  on  the  left  fell  on  Frank's 
other  shoulder. 

" Ah-a !"  said  the  owner  of  the  second  hand. 

"We  want  you,"  declared  the  first. 

"And  we  have  you,"  declared  the  other. 

Frank  was  astonished. 


216          An  Adventure  in  Memphis. 

"It  is  quite  plain  that  you  have  me,"  he  said;  "but 
I  wish  you  would  explain  what  it  means." 

"You  are  arrested." 

"What — again?"  he  gasped. 

"Ah!  You  have  been  arrested  before!  An  old 
offender,  evidently." 

"What  is  this  for?" 

"Stealing  that  bicycle." 

"Well,  this  is  getting  a  trifle  monotonous!"  ex- 
claimed Frank.  "You  have  the  wrong  chap." 

But  that  did  not  go  with  the  men.  They  showed 
their  badges,  and  were  about  to  drag  Frank  away 
without  further  ceremony,  although  Bruce  and  several 
of  the  party  protested. 

"That  telegram  of  mine  must  have  been  forwarded 
here,  and  it  is  getting  me  into  no  end  of  trouble," 
thought  Frank.  "I  don't  fancy  taking  the  trouble  to 
explain  everything  to  these  men,  and  it  will  be  some- 
thing of  a  lark  to  give  them  the  slip.  Can  I  do  it? 
I  can  try!" 

The  officers  were  replying  to  the  protests  of  Frank's 
friends.  They  were  not  giving  their  undivided  atten- 
tion to  Merriwell. 

There  was  a  snap,  a  whirl,  a  push  and  a  blow,  and 
the  two  men  found  themselves  flat  on  the  platform, 
having  been  tripped  and  thrown  down  in  a  most  sud- 
den and  surprising  manner. 

A  merry  laugh  rang  out,  and  Frank  was  astride  his 
wheel  in  a  moment. 

"Clear  the  road!" 

Ding!  ding!  ding! — went  his  bell. 


An  Adventure  in  Memphis.          217 

Along  the  platform  he  darted,  turning  here  and 
there,  avoiding  the  persons  who  were  in  his  way. 

"Stop  him!"  shouted  one  of  the  officers,  struggling 
up. 

"Stop  him!"  roared  the  other,  also  scrambling  to 
his  feet. 

Then  both  started  in  pursuit. 

There  was  excitement  at  the  station.  Instead  of  try- 
ing to  stop  the  daring,  laughing  boy,  those  who  saw 
him  in  time  were  so  astonished  that  they  stood  still  or 
made  a  scramble  to  get  out  of  the  way. 

There  was  a  flight  of  steps  at  the  end  of  the  plat- 
form. They  would  stop  him!  He  would  have  to 
dismount  in  order  to  descend,  and  his  pursuers  would 
capture  him  easily. 

"Look  out — look  out  for  the  steps!"  shouted  more 
than  one. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  steps?"  laughed  Merri- 
well.  "They  are  dead  easy  to  ride!" 

He  did  not  stop  for  them !  Down  them  he  went  at 
a  leap!  Surely  he  would  be  thrown  senseless  to  the 
ground  at  the  bottom.  Surely  his  bicycle  would  be 
smashed  and  twisted  out  of  shape. 

"Look!"  roared  a  stout  man.  "By  all  that's  won- 
derful! I  never  saw  anything  like  that  before!" 

"He's  done  it!  he's  done  it!"  shouted  twenty  voices. 

There  was  a  general  rush  for  the  steps. 

Frank  had  ridden  down  safely,  had  reached  the 
street,  and  was  flying  away,  avoiding  carriages  and 
ears. 

For  a  moment  the  two  officers  were  so  astounded 


2i8         An  Adventure  in  Memphis. 

they  could  not  shout  for  some  one  to  stop  him.  Then 
they  recovered  and  renewed  the  pursuit. 

Frank  looked  back  a  moment  as  he  flashed  around 
the  first  corner.  His  eyes  were  dancing  with  excite- 
ment and  he  was  laughing  in  his  old-time  reckless 
manner. 

"Jove!"  he  exclaimed.  "That  was  sport,  after  all! 
It  was  almost  worth  being  taken  for  a  thief  to  have 
the  sport  of  dodging  the  officers  in  such  a  manner." 

The  blood  of  a  boy  still  leaped  in  Frank's  veins,  for 
all  of  his  varied  and  remarkable  experiences  in  life. 
And  what  boy  will  not  leave  the  finest  fruit  in  an  or- 
chard if  he  may  have  it  for  the  plucking  and  pilfer 
sour,  worm-eaten  fruit  from  a  forbidden  tree,  just  for 
the  sport  of  being  pursued  by  the  angry  owner? 

Away  Frank  sped.  Pursuit  was  useless.  He  was 
soon  far  from  the  station,  having  failed  to  heed  the 
policemen  who  attempted  to  stop  him  for  reckless 
riding. 

At  last  he  turned  into  a  street  upon  which  there  were 
many  people  and  teams.  There  were  great  stores,  and 
many  ladies  were  on  the  street. 

All  at  once,  there  was  a  commotion.  Men  shouted, 
women  and  children  ran  and  screamed. 

"What's  up?"  said  Frank,  perplexed  for  a  moment. 

Then,  along  the  street  he  saw  a  crowd  of  men  and 
boys  coming  in  pursuit  of  a  dog  with  glaring  eyes 
and  froth  dripping  jaws. 

"Mad  dog!  mad  dog!"  was  the  shout. 

And  fairly  in  the  path  of  the  rabid  animal  a  pretty 
girl  had  stopped  in  terror! 


An  Adventure  in  Memphis.          219 

Frank  saw  the  girl  was  too  frightened  to  make  an 
effort  to  get  out  of  the  way,  and  she  was  directly  in 
the  path  of  the  rabid  dog  which  was  snapping  and 
snarling  at  everything. 

The  foremost  among  the  crowd,  a  uniformed  police- 
man, flourishing  a  revolver  in  his  hand,  was  some  dis- 
tance behind  the  dog.  None  of  them  could  intervene 
to  protect  the  girl. 

Straight  toward  her  Frank  drove  his  bicycle.  He 
felt  that  he  must  do  something  to  save  her,  but  what 
that  something  was  he  had  not  the  least  idea. 

The  dog  came  on.  He  seemed  to  see  the  helpless 
girl  there,  and  his  eyes  took  on  a  fiercer  gleam. 

"Run!  run!  run!"  screamed  twenty  voices,  but  none 
of  those  nearest  the  girl  attempted  to  aid  her. 

Women  shrieked  with  horror  as  they  realized  the 
frightful  peril  that  threatened  one  of  their  sex.  Men 
turned  pale  and  trembled.  One  boy,  mounted  on  a 
bicycle,  acted. 

Frank  saw  that  he  would  be  able  to  reach  the  girl  a 
little  in  advance  of  the  dog.  But  he  was  not  armed! 
He  did  not  carry  a  revolver.  What  could  he  do  ? 

His  brain,  ever  active  in  moments  of  greatest  peril, 
was  filled  with  many  schemes.  Of  them  all,  one  stood 
out  clearly. 

Between  the  dog  and  the  girl  he  flashed — down 
from  the  wheel  he  sprang. 

Frank  seemed  to  touch  the  ground  just  as  the  dog 
leaped.  He  had  dismounted  on  the  side  of  the  wheel 
opposite  the  rabid  beast.  He  caught  up  the  light  wheel 
and  held  it  between  him  and  the  dog. 


220          An  Adventure  in  Memphis. 

The  dog  struck  it,  and  then  boy,  bicycle  and  dog 
went  down  in  the  dirt  of  the  street,  rolling  over  to- 
gether. 

There  was  another  chorus  of  wild  shouts,  and  the 
policeman  came  panting  to  the  spot,  expecting  to  see 
the  rabid  animal  tearing  at  the  brave  boy. 

Instead  of  that,  Frank  had  fastened  his  fingers  on 
the  throat  of  the  dog  and  was  holding  him  off  with 
desperate  strength.  It  seemed  wonderful  that  he  could 
do  it 

"Let  me  shoot  him!  let  me  shoot  him!"  gasped  the 
officer. 

"Steady,  you !"  came  from  Frank,  who  realized  that 
the  excited  officer  might  make  a  mistake  and  lodge  a 
bullet  where  he  had  no  intention  of  putting  it. 
"Wait!  I've  got  him!  Get  around  sideways,  or 
you'll  shoot  me!" 

The  astonished  officer  obeyed.  What  sort  of  youth 
was  this  who  could  clearly  give  directions  in  such  a 
moment  of  peril? 

"Now,"  ordered  Frank,  "be  quick,  but  make  sure  of 
your  aim!  Put  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  against  his 
ear !  I'll  try  to  hold  him  steady !" 

He  made  the  supreme  effort  of  his  life,  for  he  real- 
ized that  never  had  he  been  in  greater  danger  of  a  most 
horrible  death.  In  some  manner  he  succeeded  in  hold- 
ing the  dog  steady  a  moment. 

The  policeman  thrust  the  muzzle  of  the  revolver  up 
against  the  ear  of  the  dog — and  fired! 

There  was  a  sudden  limpness  of  the  rabid  creature's 


An  Adventure  in  Memphis.          221 

body,  and  a  gasp  of  relief  came  from  Frank  Merri- 
well. 

But  he  did  not  release  his  -hold  on  the  throat  of  the 
animal,  for  he  knew  that  sometimes  a  bullet  in  the 
head  of  a  dog  does  not  complete  its  work.  He  held 
fast  with  all  his  strength. 

"His  heart  next  time!"  he  said,  and  his  voice  was 
wonderfully  steady  under  the  circumstances.  "You've 
got  a  good  chance !  Shoot  him  through  the  heart !" 

The  policeman  obeyed,  but  not  till  five  bullets  had 
been  planted  in  the  dog  did  Frank  release  his  hold. 
Then,  with  an  exclamation  of  mingled  relief  and  dis- 
gust, he  flung  the  carcass  aside,  arising  from  his  knees 
to  his  feet. 

The  crowd  cheered  wildly  and  flocked  about.  On 
every  side  men  were  saying  it  was  the  bravest  deed 
they  had  ever  witnessed.  Boys  were  regarding  Frank 
with  positive  adoration.  Here  was  a  boy  and  a  hero-™ 
such  a  hero  as  all  boys  dream  of  some  time  becoming. 

Frank's  first  thought  was  of  the  girl  he  had  saved. 
Men  were  asking  him  if  he  had  been  bitten — if  he 
had  not  been  scratched.  He  did  not  answer  them. 
He  asked  for  the  girl. 

They  told  him  she  had  been  taken  into  a  drug  store 
at  the  corner.  He  picked  up  his  wheel  and  made  his 
way  through  the  crowd  toward  the  store.  The  throng 
parted  for  -him  to  pass,  as  they  might  part  for  some 
great  man — some  mighty  general.  They  stared  at 
him,  but  no  one  ventured  to  touch  him. 

Straight  into  the  drug  store  Frank  took  his  wheel. 
The  girl  was  there  in  a  little  back  office.  She  was 


222          An  Adventure  in  Memphis. 

sitting  on  a  chair,  and  one  man  was  holding  a  bottle 
of  smelling  salts  for  her,  while  another  was  fanning 
her. 

She  saw  Frank  as  he  came  in,  and  the  sight  of  him 
did  more  than  anything  else  to  revive  her. 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed,  "there  he  is — the  brave  fel- 
low! Are  you  harmed?  Tell  me,  did  the  dog  bite 
you?" 

"I  think  not,"  answered  Frank,  "but  I  fear  you  are 
injured." 

"No,  no — thanks  to  you,  my  brave,  brave  friend! 
How  can  I  ever  thank  you !  It  was  such  a  brave  thing 
— such  a  noble  thing!  Oh,  that  dog — that  dreadful 
dog !  I  could  not  run — I  could  not  move  when  I  saw 
him  coming!  I  should  have  been  killed!  You  saved 
me!" 

"You  cannot  know  how  much  pleasure  it  gives  me 
to  know  I  could  do  it,"  declared  Frank,  with  all  his 
natural  chivalry.  "I  feared  I  should  not  reach  you 
in  time." 

"But  the  dog  was  mad — the  dog  was  mad!"  cried 
one  of  the  men.  "Did  you  know  that?" 

"Of  course  I  knew  it." 

"And  you  dared  grapple  with  him  barehanded!  I 
never  heard  of  such  a  thing!  I  don't  believe  such  a 
thing  was  ever  done  before!  And  you  are  sure  you 
were  not  scratched?" 

Several  of  the  men  gathered  about  Frank.  They 
made  an  examination  to  convince  themselves  that  he 
had  not  been  touched  by  the  poison  teeth  of  the  dog. 

There  was  not  a  mark  on  him. 


An  Adventure  in  Memphis.          223 

"It  was  a  most  marvelous  escape,"  asserted  a  man. 
"It  could  not  be  done  again  in  ten  thousand  times. 
This  young  lady  owes  you  -her  life." 

The  girl  showed  her  gratitude.  She  recovered 
quickly.  The  store  was  cleared  of  the  crowd  by  the 
policeman  who  had  shot  the  dog,  and  another  police- 
man stood  guard  at  the  door.  The  officer  who  did 
the  shooting  came  and  looked  Frank  over. 

"Young  man,"  he  said,  "you're  a  marvel!  You'd 
make  a  dandy  on  the  force!  Why,  you'd  tackle  a  ra- 
ging lion  single-handed!" 

Frank  grew  uneasy.  He  did  not  like  all  this  adula- 
tion and  admiration. 

The  girl  whispered  in  his  ear : 

"I  wish  to  speak  with  you  elsewhere.  Let's  get 
out  of  'here.  Will  you  come  ?" 

Now  that  he  was  satisfied  that  she  was  all  right, 
he  would  have  been  pleased  to  leave  her.  Her  thanks 
added  to  his  uneasiness. 

"I  cannot  leave  my  wheel,"  he  said. 

"Leave  it  here,"  said  the  druggist.  "We  will  take 
care  of  it." 

Then  he  whispered  in  Frank's  ear: 

"She  is  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  wealthiest  men 
in  Memphis.  You  have  made  a  ten-strike,  young 
man." 

That  made  no  difference  to  Frank.  He  would  have 
risked  -his  life  for  her  just  as  quick  if  she  had  been  the 
daughter  of  the  poorest  man  in  Memphis. 

But  he  could  not  get  away  from  her  without  being 
rude.  She  explained  that  she  had  left  her  carriage 


224         An  Adventure  in  Memphis. 

across  the  street.  She  -had  been  doing  some  shopping 
over  there,  and  had  started  to  cross  to  get  something  at 
the  drug  store.  Then  she  sent  a  boy  for  the  carriage. 

It  drew  up  at  the  door.  And  now  Frank  was  un- 
easy indeed,  for  he  saw  that  they  must  run  the  gant- 
let of  the  crowd  outside.  But  the  least  he  could  do 
was  to  escort  her  to  the  carriage.  This  he  proposed 
to  do. 

"You  shall  not  leave  me  there/'  she  said,  and  it  was 
plain  that  she  was  a  girl  used  to  having  her  own  way 
in  everything.  "You  must  enter  the  carriage  with 
me.  You  can't  refuse." 

No,  he  could  not.  So  they  left  the  store,  and  he 
escorted  her  to  the  carriage,  where  a  liveried  footman 
stood  holding  the  door  open.  Frank  helped  'her  in, 
and  then  got  in  with  her.  He  felt  that  he  was  blush- 
ing furiously,  for  the  crowd  was  staring  in  a  most  dis- 
tressing manner. 

The  door  slammed,  the  footman  mounted  to  his  place, 
the  coachman  cracked  his  whip,  and  away  they  went, 
while  the  crowd  on  the  sidewalk  broke  into  a  wild 
cheer. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

CAUGHT   AGAIN. 

Straight  to  her  home  the  girl  took  Frank  Merriwell. 
On  the  way  she  learned  that  he  was  a  stranger  in  Mem- 
phis, and  that  he  had  just  arrived. 

She  lived  in  a  grand  house  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
city.  About  the  house  were  beautiful  grounds,  shaded 
by  huge  trees.  There  were  flowers  and  fountains,  and 
everything  was  of  the  magnificent  order. 

As  they  rolled  up  the  gravel  drive  a  boy  was  doing 
something  with  a  bicycle  at  the  door.  The  girl  saw 
him  and  uttered  an  exclamation  of  delight. 

"It's  my  brother!"  she  cried.  "He  is  a  bicycle 
crank,  and  he  has  been  away  on  one  of  his  runs.  He 
was  away  longer  than  usual  this  time." 

The  boy  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  and  turned 
about.  Frank  saw  his  face,  and,  in  turn,  uttered  an 
exclamation. 

"Charlie  Welling!"  he  cried. 

"You  know  him?"  came  from  the  astonished  girl. 

"Frank  Merriwell!"  almost  shouted  the  boy  with 
the  bicycle.  "Am  I  dreaming,  or  is  it  Frank  Merri- 
well riding  up  here  with  my  sister?" 

"You  are  wide  awake,  old  man,"  laughed  Frank. 
"This  seems  to  be  a  general  surprise  all  around." 

The  carriage  stopped,  and  Frank  aided  the  girl  to 
nlight. 


226  Caught  Again. 

"Hanged  if  I  can  understand  this!"  came  blankly 
from  Charlie. 

"Oh,  you  dear  boy !"  exuberantly  cried  his  sister,  as 
r-he  clasped  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed  him. 
"This  gentleman  just  saved  me  from  the  most  horrible 
peril !  He  placed  himself  between  me  and  a  mad  dog, 
and  fought  the  animal  single-handed!  He  is  the 
bravest  fellow  in  all  the  world !" 

After  a  while  Charlie  learned  all  the  particulars. 
When  he  understood  what  Frank  had  done,  he  shook 
his  hand,  exclaiming: 

"Mr.  Merriwell,  you  are  a  wonder!  You  saved 
the  finest  girl  in  Memphis,  and  now,  while  you  stay 
here,  you  must  make  this  place  your  home." 

Frank  protested  that  he  must  be  with  the  boys,  but 
Charlie  said  the  boys  could  get  along  over  one  night 
without  him. 

"You  cannot  go  away  before  to-morrow  morning," 
he  said.  "Day  after  to-morrow  comes  the  great  meet. 
From  what  I  know  of  you  and  your  wheel,  I  am  in- 
clined to  think  you  will  be  a  winner  in  any  race  you 
may  enter." 

"You  forget  Cousin  Mortimer,"  said  the  girl,  whose 
name  was  Ellie.  "You  know  he  wrote  that  he  was 
on  his  way  from  Chicago  with  a  wonderful  bicycle 
that  would  run  away  from  any  ordinary  wheel  with 
ease." 

But  Charlie  was  too  absorbed  in  Frank  Merriwell 
to  heed  her  words. 

Frank  was  taken  into  the  house,  where  he  was  urged 
to  make  himself  perfectly  at  home. 


Caught  Again.  227 

The  mother  of  Charlie  and  Ellie  was  dead,  and  Mr. 
Welling,  senior,  was  away,  so  it  happened  that  the  only 
person  in  the  family  to  whom  Frank  was  introduced 
was  an  old  maid  aunt. 

Ellie's  nerves  had  received  a  severe  shock,  as  she 
discovered  after  reaching  home,  for  she  was  quite  ex- 
hausted and  sought  her  room. 

Charlie  took  Frank  to  a  room,  where  Merry  was 
able  to  get  off  his  clothes  and  get  into  a  tub,  after 
which  he  put  on  a  suit  of  undergarments  provided  by 
Welling,  and  came  out  looking  and  feeling  fresh. 

By  that  time  dinner  was  ready. 

Ellie  was  able  to  come  down  to  dinner,  and  a  rather 
jolly  meal  they  made  of  it.  Frank  seemed  at  his  best. 
His  conversation  was  most  entertaining,  and  the  stories 
he  told  brought  forth  bursts  of  laughter. 

After  dinner  Frank,  Charlie  and  Ellie  spent  an  hour 
in  the  large,  airy  parlor.  The  girl  played  several  bril- 
liant pieces  on  the  piano,  and  Frank  sang  a  song. 

Then  they  went  out  upon  the  veranda,  for  the  sun 
had  set,  and  evening  was  coming  on. 

The  hoarse  tooting  of  boat  whistles  came  from  the 
distant  river,  and  a  hazy  cloud  of  smoke  was  hanging 
over  the  city. 

A  bicyclist  rode  in  at  the  gate  and  came  up  the  drive. 

"It's  Harvy  Bramble,"  said  Charlie. 

"Goodness!"  exclaimed  Ellie.  "Is  he  coming  here 
again.  He  has  been  here  every  evening  since  you  went 
away.  I  am  getting  weary  of  his  persistent  atten- 
tions." 

"But  you  must  treat  him  well,  sister,"  said  Charlie, 


228  Caught  Again. 

quickly,  "for  you  know  father  and  his  father  are  the 
greatest  of  friends,  and  father  insists  that  Harvy  be 
treated  as  a  relative." 

"Oh,  I  know!"  she  murmured;  "but  it  is  awfully 
tiresome." 

The  young  man  on  the  wheel  saw  them  in  the 
shadow  of  the  vines  and  sprang  down  before  them, 
leaving  his  wheel  against  the  corner  of  the  veranda. 

"Good-evening,  Miss  Ellie,"  he  cried,  lifting  his 
cap.  "Good-evening,  Charlie!  Why,  this  is  a  sur- 
prise! Jove!  I  didn't  know  you  were  back." 

"And  you  came  over  to  entertain  my  sister.  It  was 
good  of  you,  Harvy,  to  keep  her  from  being  lonely 
while  I  was  away." 

"Nothing  of  the  sort,  old  fellow!  It  was  a  great 
pleasure.  But  I  hear  she  met  with  a  frightful  adven- 
ture in  town  to-day,  and  I  called  to  ask  about  her 
health.  I  scarcely  expected  to  find  her  here  on  the 
veranda.  How  fortunate  she  was  not  bitten  by  that 
dog!" 

He  came  up  the  steps. 

"I  should  have  been  bitten — I  should  have  been  killed 
but  for  the  brave  act  of  this  gentleman  here,"  said 
Ellie.  "He  placed  himself  between  me  and  the  dog, 
and  fought  the  beast  barehanded." 

"Brave  indeed!"  cried  Harvy  Bramble,  and  Frank 
fancied  he  detected  a  hateful,  sarcastic  sneer  in  the 
voice. 

"Permit  me  to  introduce  you,"  said  Charlie.  "Mr. 
Bramble,  this  is  Mr.  Merriwell,  the  gentleman  who 
saved  my  sister." 


Caught  Again.  229 

Frank  arose.  He  would  have  offered  his  hand,  but 
Harvy  Bramble  bowed  formally,  stiffly  saying: 

"Mr.  Merriwell,  I  congratulate  you,  suh.  It  is  not 
often  that  one  finds  an  opportunity  to  protect  from 
harm  such  a  charming  girl  as  Miss  Welling." 

Frank  made  a  reply,  in  his  easiest  vein,  and  then 
they  sat  down  and  talked.  Harvy  Bramble  lighted  a 
cigarette. 

Frank  soon  found  out  that  Bramble  was  a  great 
sporting  man,  a  bicycle  enthusiast,  but  not  much  of  a 
rider,  and  a  most  conceited  chap. 

"I  have  spotted  the  winners  in  the  races,"  he  de- 
clared, "and  I  am  staking  my  dust  on  them.  I  am 
going  to  shove  up  every  dollar  I  can  get  hold  of,  and 
I  am  bound  to  make  a  big  thing  out  of  the  meet." 

"You  are  a  great  sport,  old  man,"  said  Charlie. 
"Who  have  you  spotted  for  winners?" 

"Well,  I  don't  mind  giving  you  a  tip.  Joe  Hegner, 
of  Little  Rock,  will  win  the  road  race.  He  is  the 
greatest  century  rider  in  the  South." 

"And  the  one  mile  race  on  the  track?" 

"Mel  White,  of  Louisville.  He'll  be  here,  and  he 
is  a  great  man  on  short  runs.  I  have  a  roll  on  him 
already." 

"The  two-mile  race — who  will  take  that?" 

"Bob  Harris,  of  Memphis,  if  White  does  not  carry 
off  both." 

"You  say  you  are  backing  these  men  heavily?" 

"Yes." 

"Better  go  slow,  old  fellow.  Mr.  Merriwell  will 
enter  the  track  races,  and  he  has  a  wheel  that  flies." 


2}o  Caught  Again. 

"Who  ever  heard  of  Mr.  Merriwell  as  a  bicyclist  ?*J 
came  with  some  derision  from  Harvy  Bramble.  "He 
may  be  fast,  but  he  will  keep  out  of  the  races,  if  he  is 
sensible,  for  all  the  veterans  will  be  against  him." 

"That  will  make  it  all  the  more  interesting/'  laughed 
Frank. 

"And  you  think  you  will  stand  a  show?" 

"I  rather  think  so." 

"Suh,"  said  Harvy  Bramble.  "I  am  afraid  your 
courage  is  better  than  your  judgment." 

Here  Ellie  spoke  up,  seeing  the  two  were  not  in  the 
best  humor,  although  Frank  was  laughing  lightly. 

"Better  be  careful,  Mr.  Bramble/'  she  said.  "My 
cousin,  Mortimer  Swett,  is  coming  on  from  Chicago, 
and  he  is  bringing  a  remarkable  new  racing  wheel, 
which  he  had  made  under  his  own  directions.  He  says 
the  wheel  is  a  dead-sure  winner." 

"Ho!"  said  Bramble,  from  behind  the  glowing  light 
of  his  cigarette,  seen  in  the  shadows,  "that  will  not 
worry  me.  There  will  be  other  racing  wheels  quite 
as  perfect  on  the  ground,  and  none  of  the  men  I  have 
named  will  get  left." 

Then  -he  fell  to  talking  about  the  meet  with  Charlie, 
and  Ellie  chatted  with  Frank.  After  a  time  Bramble 
arose  and  announced  that  he  must  go.  He  snook- 
Charlie's  hand,  bowed  very  low  to  Ellie,  and  noddec 
stiffly  to  Frank,  saying:. 

"Good-night,  suh." 

A  few  seconds  later  his  wheel  grated  on  the  gravel 
of  the  drive,  and  his  shadowy  figure  could  be  seen  be- 
hind the  lantern  he  had  lighted. 


Caught  Again.  231 

Frank  breathed  easier  when  the  fellow  was  gone. 
The  atmosphere  seemed  to  clear. 

Ellie  went  into  the  house,  but  Frank  and  Charlie, 
languid  from  the  reaction  after  their  day  of  intense 
activity,  lolled  in  the  hammock  and  an  easy-chair,  still 
talking. 

They  spoke  of  various  things,  and,  at  length,  the 
adventure  at  the  station  was  mentioned. 

"That  was  odd,"  laughed  Frank.  "It  must  be  my 
telegram  from  Forrest  City  was  forwarded  in  some 
way,  and  those  officers  attempted  to  arrest  me  for 
stealing  my  own  wheel." 

"Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  if  you  hadn't 
dodged  them,"  said  Charlie. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!  It  was  fun,  and  that's  what 
we  are  living  for.  I  enjoy  excitement." 

"Then  you  have  had  quite  enough  of  it  since  com- 
ing to  Memphis." 

It  was  a  perfect  Southern  night.  The  moon  had 
risen,  and  the  stars  were  in  the  sky.  Every  gentle 
breeze  brought  the  perfume  of  flowers. 

Conversation  lagged  and  stopped.  Then  one  lad 
slept  in  the  hammock,  and  one  slept  in  the  easy-chair. 

Frank  Merriwell  was  awakened  by  feeling  heavy 
hands  grasp  'him.  He  attempted  to  start  up,  but  was 
held  fast,  and — click!  click! — bands  of  iron  encircled 
his  wrists. 

Then  a  triumphant  voice  exclaimed: 

"We  have  him  fast  this  time,  and  he  will  not  get 
away  again!" 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

OUT   ON    BAIL. 

The  two  detectives  who  had  attempted  to  arrest 
Frank  at  the  railway  station  had  traced  him  down  and 
accomplished  their  feat  at  last. 

A  third  person  was  with  them. 

It  was  Harvy  Bramble. 

He  had  brought  them  to  the  house  of  the  Wellings, 
where  Frank  was  stopping. 

"I  thought  you  would  hardly  fancy  keeping  a  bicycle 
thief  in  your  house  overnight,  Charlie,"  he  said,  as 
Welling,  freshly  awakened,  began  to  understand  what 
had  taken  place. 

"But  there  is  a  mistake,"  protested  Charlie.  "He  is 
no  thief.  The  bicycle  was  stolen  from  him,  and  it  is 
his  own  telegram  that  is  causing  him  all  this  trouble." 

Then  Frank  explained,  but  the  officers  laughed. 

"We  are  not  arresting  you  on  that  telegram  at  all. 
That  wheel,  marked  'Flyer,'  was  stolen  from  its  in- 
ventor, and  telegrams  have  been  sent  all  over  the  coun- 
try, instructing  the  police  everywhere  to  look  out  for 
it" 

"But — but  I  secured  it  in  a  legitimate  trade!"  pro- 
tested Frank,  for  the  first  time  beginning  to  under- 
stand the  situation.  "Listen — in  my  pocket  here  I 
have  a  receipt  showing  I  paid  fifty  dollars  as  the  dif- 


Out  on  Bail.  233 

ference  between  this  wheel  and  the  one  I  had  in  my 
possession  this  very  morning." 

"Receipt  probably  a  forgery,"  gruffly  answered  one 
of  the  officers. 

"But  I  can  prove  it  by  my  eight  companions," 

"Where  are  they?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  they  are  somewhere  in  Memphis. 
I  lost  them  when  I  skipped  you  at  the  station." 

"Too  thin!"  said  one  officer. 

"Altogether  too  thin,"  agreed  the  other. 

"He  would  not  -have  run  away  if  he  was  innocent." 

"Surely  not." 

And  so,  despite  Frank's  protests,  he  was  dragged 
away  to  be  locked  up. 

"Saved  Ellie's  life,  did  he?"  sneered  Harvy  Bram- 
ble to  himself.  "Well,  he's  not  such  a  much!  He 
won't  cut  much  frost  with  her  after  this." 

The  officers  had  demanded  the  stolen  wheel,  but 
Frank  told  them  he  did  not  -have  it,  and  he  refused  to 
tell  where  it  was.  But  Harvy  Bramble  knew  where 
Merriwell  had  saved  Ellie  from  the  dog,  and  he  volun- 
teered to  take  them  where  they  could  secure  the  wheel. 

Bramble  took  them  straight  to  the  drug  store  where 
the  wheel  had  been  left.  But  there,  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  Merriwell  and  the  deep  disgust  of  the  detect- 
ives, they  were  informed  that  a  youth  in  a  bicycle  suit 
who  had  been  taken  for  Merriwell,  had  called  for  the 
wheel  five  minutes  before,  and  it  had  been  delivered 
to  him. 

Frank  began  to  believe  there  was  a  hoodoo  on  the 
bicycle,  for  it  seemed  to  bring  the  worst  kind  of  luck 


234  Out  on  Bail. 

to  anybody  who  possessed  it.  Now  it  had  disappeared 
again,  and  it  seemed  very  probable  that  it  was  in  the 
hands  of  another  thief. 

Frank  was  carried  to  the  lockup,  and  passed  a  rather 
unpleasant  night  in  a  cell.  However,  he  was  philo- 
sophical, and  he  took  the  situation  as  coolly  as  pos- 
sible. 

Surely  fortune  was  playing  fast  and  loose  with  him. 
Since  entering  Memphis  he  had  been  cheered  as  a  great 
hero,  and  now  he  was  under  arrest  as  an  ordinary 
thief. 

All  this  had  come  about  within  a  few  short  hours. 

Morning  came.  It  was  ten  o'clock  before  Frank 
was  taken  before  the  court. 

The  courtroom  was  crowded.  Frank  saw  all  his 
friends  there,  Bart,  Bruce,  Jack  and  the  rest.  They 
smiled  and  nodded  encouragingly  to  him. 

Charlie  Welling  was  with  them,  and  he  was  talking 
to  a  handsome,  brown-bearded  man.  The  latter  re- 
garded Frank  with  great  interest. 

Merry  was  guarded  by  two  officers  as  he  was  brought 
in,  but  was  not  ironed.  He  walked  proudly  erect,  and 
his  face  was  that  of  one  absolutely  upright  and  hon- 
est. The  brown-bearded  man  with  Charlie  Welling 
nodded  in  a  satisfied  manner  as  he  saw  that  face  fairly. 

When  Frank's  name  was  called  he  stepped  to  the 
bar  promptly.  Newspaper  reporters  had  found  out 
that  this  was  the  boy  who  saved  Richard  Welling's 
daughter  from  the  mad  dog  the  night  before,  and  they 
were  on  hand  to  obtain  a  new  sensation.  They 
watched  Frank  with  great  interest. 


Out  on  Bail.  235 

The  charge  against  Merriwell  was  read,  and  Frank 
pleaded  not  guilty.  Then  the  judge  said  it  would  be 
necessary  to  hold  him  for  trial,  and  he  would  have  to 
commit  him.  Bail  was  set  at  two  thousand  dollars. 

Then  came  another  surprise.  The  brown-bearded 
man  with  Charlie  Welling  immediately  pushed  forward 
and  offered  to  be  security  for  the  prisoner. 

The  judge  recognized  him,  bowed  to  him  with  the 
greatest  respect,  and  accepted  him  as  Frank's  bonds- 
man. 

All  this  was  soon  arranged,  and,  within  a  short  time, 
Merriwell  was  at  liberty.  A  murmur  of  satisfaction 
ran  over  the  courtroom.  It  grew  louder  and  louder. 
The  judge  rapped  sharply  with  his  gavel.  Still  the 
murmur  swelled.  Then  it  burst  into  a  cheer. 

It  was  Charlie  Welling's  father  who  had  become 
Frank's  bondsman.  He  had  returned  home  from  a 
business  trip  earlier  than  he  was  expected,  and  it  had 
not  taken  Charlie  and  Ellie  long  to  interest  him  in 
Frank's  case. 

"Nothing  can  make  either  my  son  or  my  daughter 
believe  you  would  steal  a  bicycle,"  he  said,  when  Charlie 
introduced  Frank  to  him ;  "and,  from  what  I  have  seen 
of  you,  I  think  they  are  right." 

Then  he  insisted  that  every  one  of  the  nine  boys 
should  make  -his  home  their  home  while  they  remained 
in  Memphis. 

"I  have  room  for  you  all  in  the  old  house,"  he  said; 
"and  it  will  seem  pleasant  to  have  you  there.  Come." 

They  feared  it  would  be  too  much  of  a  sacrifice  on 


236  Out  on  Bail. 

his  part,  and  they  said  so;  but  he  would  not  take  no 
for  an  answer,  and  they  went  with  him. 

As  Frank  swung  in  the  hammock  on  the  veranda 
before  noon  that  day,  he  said : 

"I  would  feel  first  rate  now  if  I  knew  what  has 
become  of  that  ill-fated  wheel.  Who  carried  it  off? 
That  is  what  I'd  like  to  know.  It  must  be  recovered." 

"Don't  let  that  worry  you,"  laughed  Charlie.  "Toots, 
bring  Mr.  Merriwell  his  Flyer." 

And  Toots  did  it! 

Frank  stared  in  astonishment,  while  the  others 
laughed. 

"Will  somebody  be  good  enough  to  explain!"  cried 
Merry. 

"That's  easy,"  chuckled  Charlie.  "I  knew  where 
your  friends  were  stopping  last  night,  although  I  did 
not  tell  you  so.  As  soon  as  the  detectives  took  you 
away  I  resolved  to  save  that  wheel.  I  mounted  my 
own  bicycle,  rode  for  all  I  was  worth  to  your  friends, 
and  Mr.  Rattleton  went  with  me  to  the  drug  store, 
where  he  claimed  and  secured  the  wheel.  We  got 
away  with  it  before  the  officers  arrived." 

For  a  little  time  Frank  was  delighted,  and  then  he 
began  to  be  worried.  He  feared  he  would  not  be  able 
to  enter  the  races  with  that  wheel.  It  would  be  taken 
away  from  him. 

"Don't  enter  but  one,"  advised  Diamond.  "Let  the 
rest  of  us  have  a  shot  at  the  others." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Hodge.  "I  want  to  get  into 
the  century  road  run  with  which  the  affair  is  to  open." 

"Go  in,"  said  Frank.     "You  may  have  it." 


Out  on  Bail.  237 

"And  I'd  like  to  try  the  mile  race,"  said  Diamond. 

"All  right." 

"That  leaves  you  the  two-mile  race,  which  will  be 
the  most  exciting  event  of  the  second  day." 

"But  I  fear  this  bicycle  will  be  taken  from  me." 

"I  tell  you  how  we'll  fix  that!"  cried  Charlie  Well- 
ing. "We'll  keep  it  out  of  sight  till  the  last  minute, 
and  we'll  have  another  name  on  it.  That  plate  can 
be  taken  off  easily  and  another  substituted." 

This  plan  was  agreed  upon. 

"Jove!"  laughed  Charlie.  "Won't  Bramble  drop 
dead  if  you  win  that  race !  He  is  sure  Harris  will  take 
it.  He  was  in  the  courtroom  when  you  were  called 
up,  but  he  did  not  know  father  meant  to  stand  your 
bail.  When  father  did  so  -he  was  furious.  He  left 
the  room,  swearing  bitterly,  and  rushed  away  to  drown 
his  dismay  in  drink." 

"Does  he  drink  much  ?" 

"Sometimes,  and  he  is  a  bad  man  when  he  has  been 
drinking.  He  seems  to  lose  his  head  entirely,  and  no 
act  is  too  reckless  for  him  to  do." 

The  boys  had  a  jolly  time  at  the  Welling  mansion. 
They  were  given  the  utmost  freedom  about  the  place, 
and  Charlie  and  Ellie  did  their  best  to  entertain  them. 
They  lay  about  in  the  hammocks  and  easy-chairs,  they 
sang,  they  played  games,  joked,  laughed  and  were 
happy.  Not  even  the  charge  hanging  over  Frank 
Merriwell's  head  seemed  to  disturb  him  greatly.  He 
knew  he  was  innocent,  and  so  he  knew  that  everything 
would  come  out  right  in  the  end. 

Memphis  filled  with  bicyclists.      Every  train  poured 


238  Out  on  Bail. 

them  into  the  city.  The  hotels  were  full,  and  they 
were  everywhere  on  the  streets. 

Frank  and  his  friends  were  taken  to  the  headquar- 
ters of  the  Memphis  Cycle  Club,  where  they  were  en- 
tertained on  the  evening  previous  to  the  first  day  of 
the  great  meet.  For  all  that  Frank  had  been  arrested 
for  stealing  a  wheel,  the  members  of  the  club  were 
eager  to  meet  him  and  be  introduced.  They  had  read 
in  the  papers  the  story  of  his  daring  defense  of  Ellie 
Welling. 

There  was  one  member  of  the  club  who  avoided 
Frank.  That  was  Harvy  Bramble.  He  had  been 
drinking  freely,  and  was  in  a  sullen  mood.  At  times 
he  looked  as  if  he  longed  to  strangle  Frank. 

Charlie  had  seen  that  the  ones  among  the  visitors 
at  his  home  who  wished  to  enter  the  races  had  been 
properly  presented,  and  they  were  admitted  as  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Yale  Combine,  on  Welling' s  recom- 
mendation. 

On  the  following  day  the  century  run  took  place, 
being  fifty  miles  out  from  the  city  and  fifty  miles 
back.  A  great  crowd  cheered  the  gay  riders  as  they 
started  away  in  the  morning,  and  a  howling  mob  wel- 
comed the  first  to  return  in  the  afternoon. 

Harvy  Bramble  had  wagered  much  that  Hegner,  of 
Little  Rock,  would  be  the  first  in,  and  he  nearly  choked 
with  astonishment  as  the  first  two  riders  came  near 
enough  for  him  to  recognize  them. 

Neither  was  Hegner. 

One  was  a  Memphis  youth  by  the  name  of  Doe, 
and  the  other  was  Bart  Hodge! 


Out  on  Bail.  239 

Almost  neck  and  neck  the  two  raced  toward  the 
finish.  It  was  as  exciting  as  a  mile  dash.  The  wild- 
est excitement  prevailed. 

Hodge's  face  was  set  and  drawn  with  pain.  He  was 
racing  beneath  a  Southern  sun,  and  he  had  felt  the  dif- 
ference in  the  climate.  Still,  with  that  pluck  that 
never  gives  up,  he  held  even  with  his  rival  till  within 
one  hundred  yards  of  the  finish. 

Then  he  was  seen  to  sway,  and  the  next  minute  he 
plunged  from  his  wheel  to  the  ground  in  a  dead  faint, 
although  otherwise  all  right,  and  the  Memphis  man 
came  in  first,  to  the  unbounded  joy  of  the  citizens  of 
the  place. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A    WINNER. 

The  track  was  crowded  with  a  great  throng,  and  the 
grand  stand  was  full.  Men,  women  and  children  were 
there.  It  was  like  a  scene  at  a  horse  race,  but  this 
was  to  be  a  race  between  human  beings.  There  was 
a  babel  of  voices,  and  one  was  heard  crying : 

"Here's  my  last  hundred !  Who  takes  it  that  Har- 
ris, of  Memphis,  is  not  the  winner  in  the  two-mile 
race?" 

It  was  Harvy  Bramble.  His  face  was  flushed  and 
his  eyes  bloodshot.  He  did  not  wear  a  bicycle  suit 
now.  On  his  head  was  a  silk  hat,  but  his  clothes  were 
a  loud  plaid,  showing  abominable  taste  or  utter  disre- 
gard for  conventionality.  He  looked  like  a  young 
"sport"  who  wished  to  be  considered  "tough." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do,  sir,"  said  a  quiet  voice. 
"I  will  give  you  a  better  lay  than  that.  I'll  bet  a  hun- 
dred even  with  you  that  the  fellow  by  the  name  of 
Merriwell  wins  this  race." 

"Merriwell !"  sneered  Bramble,  looking  at  the  quiet, 
plainly-dressed  young  man  who  had  spoken  the  words. 
"Why,  that  chump  won't  be  in  it!  I'll  go  you!" 

The  money  was  posted  at  once,  for  preparations 
were  being  made  for  the  race  to  start. 

"What's  your  name?"  asked  Bramble  of  the  man 
with  whom  he  had  made  the  wager. 


A  Winner.  241 

"You  may  call  me  Mr.  Mortimer,"  was  the  answer. 

A  sudden  hush  fell  on  the  throng.  Those  about 
the  quarter  stretch  crowded  to  the  ropes.  Those  in 
the  grand  stand  craned  their  necks. 

The  starters  were  getting  ready,  seven  in  all.  They 
were  in  line.  Frank  Merriwell  was  there,  with  his 
Flyer  beneath  him,  waiting  for  the  word. 

Browning  was  steadying  -him,  ready  to  give  a  great 
shove  and  send  him  away  when  the  time  came. 

"Ready,  gentlemen!" 

It  was  the  starter's  voice.  His  hand  was  lifted,  and 
a  pistol  glittered  in  his  fingers. 

"Go!" 

The  pistol  cracked  and  away  went  the  racers. 

At  the  outset  a  rider  from  Nashville  took  the  lead. 
He  did  it  in  a  surprisingly  easy  manner.  Harris,  of 
Memphis,  was  second,  while  the  others  were  bunched. 

The  excitement  grew  as  they  sped  around  the  track, 
with  Harris  pressing  the  Nashville  man,  but  none  of 
the  others  seeming  to  press  Harris. 

"Where  is  Frank  Merriwell?"  laughed  Harvy 
Bramble. 

"You  will  hear  of  him  later,"  retorted  a  voice,  and 
Bramble  saw  Bart  Hodge  near  at  -hand. 

The  excitement  grew.  Harris  and  the  Nashville 
man  were  riding  neck  and  neck.  They  came  down 
the  stretch  in  that  manner. 

Frank  was  with  the  bunch.  He  attracted  no  particu- 
lar notice,  but  those  who  did  regard  him  saw  that  he 
was  riding  with  the  utmost  ease,  and  his  face  wore  the 
ghost  of  a  smile. 


242  A  Winner. 

Past  the  grand  stand  flew  the  gay  riders.  The  great 
crowd  cheered,  waving  handkerchiefs  and  flags.  It 
was  a  mighty  roar,  with  which  a  shrill  note  was  min- 
gled. 

Then,  of  a  sudden,  there  was  a  burst  of  excitement. 
Something  was  happening. 

A  rider  who  had  been  packed  in  the  bunch  was  for- 
ging to  the  front,  weaving  hither  and  thither  as  he 
went,  and  riding  away  from  the  others  with  amazing 
ease. 

It  was  Frank  Merriwell! 

But  Harris  and  his  Nashville  rider  were  far  in  ad- 
vance. Surely  Frank  Merriwell  could  not  overtake 
them. 

He  cleared  the  bunch,  and  then  he  fairly  flew. 

"See  him!  see  him  go!"  shouted  the  spectators  in 
amazement. 

"Who  is  he?" 

"Why,  that's  Frank  Merriwell,  the  fellow  who 
fought  the  mad  dog.  He's  a  Yale  man." 

"If  he  can  keep  up  that  pace  he  is  a  winner!" 

"He  can't  do  it!  He  is  spurting,  and  he  will  drop 
in  a  minute." 

But  Frank  showed  no  signs  of  dropping.  On  he 
-vent,  closing  the  gap  between  himself  and  the  leaders. 
It  was  wonderful  how  he  seemed  to  walk  over  the 
ground  with  the  speed  of  the  wind. 

Harvy  Bramble  ground  his  teeth.  A  furious  light 
came  into  his  red  eyes.  His  heart  was  throbbing  with 
mad  rage. 


A  Winner.  243 

"If  he  wins,  I'm  broke!"  he  muttered.  "Furies!  he 
shall  not  win !" 

The  three  leaders  were  in  the  stretch.  Merriwell 
was  pressing  them — he  was  passing  Harris! 

Then  came  a  mad  dash  between  Frank  and  the 
Nashville  man,  but  Merry  forged  to  the  front  with 
ease,  while  the  grand  stand  roared  its  admiration. 

Beside  the  track  a  crazed  young  fellow  drew  a  re- 
volver and  pointed  it  at  Frank.  Then,  with  a  great 
leap,  Bart  Hodge  struck  Bramble's  arm  and  saved 
Frank  Merriwell's  life. 

The  revolver  was  discharged,  but  the  bullet  flew  wild 
in  the  air. 

A  moment  later  Frank  flew  over  the  finish  line  a  safe 
winner. 

"Hurrah!" 

"Frank  has  won !" 

And  then  the  Yale  cheer  rent  the  air. 

Before  Hodge  could  find  an  officer  to  arrest  Bram- 
ble the  rascal  disappeared  from  the  track.  That  night 
he  fled  from  the  city,  having  pawned  a  watch  and  ring 
to  get  money  to  do  so.  It  was  plain  he  feared  prose- 
cution for  attempted  murder. 

And  the  Mr.  Mortimer  who  had  covered  Bramble's 
last  hundred  dollars  proved  to  be  Mortimer  Swett,  the 
cousin  of  Charlie  and  Ellie  Welling,  and  the  inventor 
of  the  bicycle  Frank  rode. 

Swett  had  been  notified  of  MerriweH's  arrest  He 
hastened  to  Memphis,  and  found  out  all  the  particulars. 
In  the  meantime  he  had  obtained  a  c^w  to  the  real 


244  A  Winner. 

thief,  with  the  result  that  "Phil  Derry,"  whose  real 
name  was  Clifford  Park,  was  arrested  in  Arkansas. 

Derry  had  stolen  the  wheel  at  Cairo,  Illinois,  and 
had  started  for  Texas.  His  story  about  trading  a 
horse  for  the  wheel  was  a  lie.  After  getting  into 
Arkansas,  he  had  heard  of  the  bicycle  meet  in  Mem- 
phis, and  decided  to  attend  it.  Then  he  and  Merriwell 
met,  and  he  traded  the  Flyer  for  Frank's  bicycle. 

When  Swett  arrived  in  Memphis  it  did  not  take  him 
long  to  discover  that  the  wheel  which  Frank  was  to 
ride,  although  it  bore  another  name,  was  the  one  he 
had  invented. 

Knowing  what  a  good  rider  could  do  on  that  wheel, 
he  was  ready  enough  to  bet  on  Frank. 

The  real  thief  was  brought  into  Memphis  the  follow- 
ing day,  and  enough  proof  was  found  to  hold  him, 
while  the  case  against  Merriwell  was  soon  settled,  as 
Swett  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  it,  and 
Frank  was  discharged. 

"You  are  lucky,"  said  Diamond.  "If  that  real  thief 
hadn't  been  found  matters  would  have  gone  against 
you." 

"Frank  is  always  lucky,"  put  in  Bruce.  "He  was 
born  under  a  lucky  star." 

The  boys  were  invited  to  make  the  Welling  man- 
sion their  home  during  their  stay  in  Memphis,  and 
they  remained  there  two  days,  during  which  their 
new-found  friends  did  all  that  was  possible  to  make  the 
stay  pleasant. 

"And  now  we  must  go  on,"  said  Frank,  on  the 


A  Winner.  245 

morning  of  the  third  day.  "We  have  already  delayed 
too  long." 

"That's  right — as  soon  as  you're  comfortable  make 
yourself  uncomfortable/'  grumbled  Bruce.  "I  could 
rest  here  for  a  month." 

"Where  away  next?"  queried  Diamond. 

"Yah,  vere  ve  pin  gone  next  annahow  ?"  came  from 
Hans. 

The  matter  was  talked  over  for  fully  an  hour,  and 
the  combine  decided  to  strike  out  for  Kentucky. 

"That  suits  me,"  said  Harry.  "I  want  to  see  Louis- 
ville. I  used  to  have  some  friends  there." 

"Louisville  it  is,"  said  Barney.  "An'  may  our  sthay 
there  prove  as  pleasant  as  our  sthop  at  this  home." 

"So  say  we  all  of  us,"  came  from  Frank;  and  then 
the  meeting  broke  up  and  the  boys  started  to  pack  up. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

HEROIC    HANS. 

"Whoa!" 

"Stop  him!" 

"Lookout!" 

A  crowded  city  street,  the  sidewalks  lined  with  pe- 
destrians, and  the  roadway  with  vehicles  of  various 
descriptions. 

Above  the  sounds  of  ordinary  traffic  came  these 
commands  and  warning  cries,  and  above  them  all  rises 
an  excited  voice  shouting: 

"Clear  the  road!  there's  a  runaway!" 

A  party  of  well-dressed  boys  were  just  crossing  the 
street  There  were  seven  of  them.  The  absentees 
were  Frank  and  Toots,  who  were  attending  to  some 
business  in  another  part  of  the  city. 

The  combine  had  reached  Louisville.  The  seven 
members  referred  to  were  not  walking  in  any  regular 
order,  but  were  strolling  along  in  pairs  and  singly,  just 
as  it  happened. 

Some  of  them  had  reached  the  curb  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street  when  the  excitement  about  the  run- 
away began. 

All  looked  around  to  see  the  cause  of  the  excite- 
ment. 

Two  or  three  blocks  away  a  roan  horse  drawing  a 
light  buggy  was  coming  toward  them  at  «•  ^ild  gallop. 


Heroic  Hans.  247 

The  buggy  was  empty,  and  the  reins  were  flying  in 
the  air. 

Women  and  children  went  scudding  into  open  door- 
ways of  stores  for  shelter;  many  a  man  also  took  the 
same  safe,  if  not  very  courageous,  course. 

Other  men  ran  to  their  own  horses  that  were  stand- 
ing along  the  curb  and  caught  their  bit  reins  to  prevent 
them  from  breaking  away  also. 

Wagons  and  carriages  in  motion  were  turned  aside 
and  in  some  cases  driven  straight  up  onto  the  side- 
walks to  be  out  of  the  way. 

A  collision  with  that  runaway  would  have  most  cer- 
tainly made  a  complete  wreck  of  the  buggy,  and  prob- 
ably the  ruin  of  any  other  vehicle  it  struck. 

The  boys,  who  were  already  interested  in  the  event, 
were  a  good  deal  more  so  when  they  overheard  a  man 
exclaim : 

"Hang  me  if  it  ain't  Billy  Leech's  Jupiter!" 

Immediately  on  hearing  this,  the  boys  who  had  al- 
ready reached  the  curb  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  street 
craned  their  necks  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  excited 
animal. 

He  was  then  so  far  away  that  even  if  the  boys  had 
tkought  of  running  for  shelter  there  would  have  been 
plenty  of  time  for  them  to  make  themselves  safe. 

That  -was  not  what  they  thought  of,  however;  even 
those  who  were  in  the  middle  of  the  street  stood  where 
they  were  taking  in  the  spectacle  calmly. 

They  were  Ephraim,  Hans  and  Bartley  Hodge. 

"Gee  whillikins!"  exclaimed  Ephraim,  "but  that 
nag's  a  flyer,  ain't  he?" 


248  Heroic  Hans. 

"I  don't  see  his  wings  alretty!"  responded  Hans. 

"He's  got  wings  on  his  hind  feet,  Dutchy,"  said 
Hodge,  "and  from  the  way  he  strikes  out  I  should 
think  he  had  a  baseball  bat  gripped  in  each  forepaw. 
We'd  better  be  getting  out  of  this  or  he'll  knock  us 
over." 

With  this  Hodge  started  on  toward  the  sidewalk. 
The  other  boys  turned  to  accompany  him,  but  halted 
again,  thrilled  with  horror  at  a  sudden  change  in  the 
situation. 

There  was  little  more  than  a  block's  distance  between 
them  then  and  the  oncoming  animal. 

The  roadway  had  become  fairly  clear  of  vehicles, 
except  for  those  that  were  drawn  up  along  the  curb. 

Suddenly  from  out  a  cross  street  an  old  negro 
woman  appeared  pushing  a  little  fruit  cart  in  front  of 
her.  She  was  crossing  directly  in  the  path  of  the  run- 
away, evidently  unconscious  of  her  danger. 

It  proved  later  that  this  old  darky  was  as  deaf  as 
a  post,  and  more  than  half  blind;  therefore,  she  had 
been  unable  to  hear  the  cries  of  warning,  and  with  her 
weak  eyes  fixed  upon  the  road  in  front  of  her,  she  had 
not  seen  what  was  approaching  at  her  left  hand. 

"Screat  Gott,  I  mean  Great  Scott!"  cried  Harry, 
who  was  with  those  on  the  curb,  "there'll  be  a  col- 
lision." 

"And  one  worthless  nigger  the  less!"  added  a  man 
who  stood  near  him. 

It  was  a  cold-blooded  remark,  but  it  seemed  to  tell 
some  truth,  for  the  old  darky  woman  was  almost  di- 
rectly in  front  of  the  horse,  and  her  pace  was  just 


Heroic  Hans.  249 

slow  enough  to  bring  her  well  in  his  way  by  the  time 
he  should  reach  the  crossing. 

The  faces  of  the  boys,  who  were  too  far  away  to  be 
of  any  possible  help,  turned  pale  with  pity  and  horror. 

Suddenly  from  out  the  crowd  that  lined  the  edge  of 
the  walk  at  the  upper  end  of  the  block,  a  lithe  young 
figure  darted  straight  toward  the  apple  woman. 

"It's  Frank!"  cried  Hodge.  "What  should  he  risk 
his  life  for,  I'd  like  to  know  ?" 

,"He  don't  vas  try  ter  stop  der  horse,  ain't  it?"  ex- 
claimed Hans,  so  excited  that  even  his  usually  mixed 
English  was  more  meaningless  than  ever. 

Ephraim  was  staring  open-mouthed.  What  his 
exact  feelings  were  it  would  be  impossible  to  say,  for 
the  only  word  that  came  from  his  parted  lips  was  a 
shuddering  "gosh!" 

All  the  spectators  were  very  quiet,  for  in  that  brief 
instant  it  seemed  as  if  two  human  lives  were  at  stake, 
and  the  end  was  awaited  with  too  much  interest  to 
permit  of  any  remark. 

It  proved  that  Frank  had  his  wits  as  well  as  his 
courage  about  him. 

He  did  not  make  any  vain,  hopeless  effort  to  stop 
the  excited  animal,  but  instead  he  caught  the  colored 
woman  around  the  waist,  and  with  a  vigorous  move- 
ment yanked  her  backward;  at  the  same  instant  he 
caught  his  foot  in  the  wheel  of  the  pushcart  and  gave 
that  a  pull,  too. 

Its  contents  were  upset  and  scattered  over  the  ground 
and  the  cart  itself  was  yanked  just  far  enough  away  to 


250  Heroic  Hans. 

be  missed  by  the  wheels  of  the  buggy  that  went  rum- 
bling by. 

The  horse  had  veered  slightly  as  it  approached  the 
apple  woman,  but  it  went  thundering  on  now  down  the 
street. 

There  was  a  cheer  from  those  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
block  when  they  saw  that  Frank's  brave  effort  had  been 
successful,  but  it  was  only  for  an  instant 

All  the  people  there  now  crowded  into  the  street 
behind  the  runaway  to  make  sure  they  should  see  the 
final  outcome. 

"Jimminy!"  exclaimed  Ephraim,  "it's  time  this  here 
meeting  adjourned." 

With  that  he  made  a  leap  toward  the  sidewalk  upon 
which  his  companions  were  already  standing.  Hodge 
leaped  with  -him  and  they  reached  the  curb  together. 

Hans,  the  only  one  left  in  the  middle  of  the  roadway, 
had  started  also,  but  in  the  other  direction. 

"Hi,  there,  Hans!"  called  two  or  three  of  the  boys 
together. 

Hans  heard  them,  halted  and  turned  about.  He 
started  toward  them  and  then,  with  a  nervous  glance 
toward  the  coming  horse,  seemed  to  feel  that  it  would 
be  easier  for  him  to  reach  the  other  side;  so  he  turned 
still  again. 

"He's  lost  his  head!"  muttered  Bruce  Browning, 
anxiously.  "He  don't  know  which  way  to  turn." 

That  indeed  seemed  to  be  the  case,  for  Hans,  greatly 
excited  not  only  by  the  runaway,  but  by  Frank's  peril- 
ous adventure,  was  looking  first  at  the  horse  and  then 


Heroic  Hans.  251 

at  the  sidewalks  and  wavering  squarely  in  the  middle 
of  the  street,  utterly  unable  to  decide  which  way  to  go. 

It  was  only  for  a  second  or  two,  but  in  that  short 
space  the  animal  was  covering  the  distance  between 
him  and  Hans  in  great  leaps. 

"Get  out  of  the  way,  Hans!"  bawled  several  of  the 
boys  together. 

"Dormer  und  blitzen!"  stammered  Hans.  "Vitch 
vay?" 

He  took  a  couple  of  steps  in  one  direction,  then 
turned  wildly  about  and  started  in  the  other.  It  would 
have  been  ridiculous  if  it  -had  not  been  so  dangerous. 

The  horse  perhaps  had  run  out  some  of  its  own  ex- 
citement; perhaps  its  nerves  had  been  cooled  a  bit  by 
the  narrow  escape  of  collision  with  the  fruit  cart. 

Anyhow,  as  it  approached  Hans  it,  too,  veered  from 
side  to  side  as  if  trying  to  dodge  him.  The  trouble 
was  that  Hans  took  the  -horse  each  time  by  surprise. 

If  the  horse  turned  a  little  to  the  right,  Hans  turned 
to  his  own  left,  and  so  stood  in  the  way;  and  if  the 
horse  turned  to  the  left  there  was  Hans,  too,  dodging, 
perspiring  with  excitement,  and  fairly  dancing  with 
real  terror. 

So  what  the  boys  feared  came  about;  the  horse  ran 
plumb  into  the  German.  The  other  members  of  the 
combine,  the  instant  they  saw  the  collision  was  bound 
to  take  place,  leaped  from  the  curb  determined  to  do 
what  they  could  to  help  their  companion. 

They  did  not  get  very  far  before  they  broke  into 
laughter,  for  Hans,  when  the  horse  at  last  came  upon 
him,  put  up  both  hands,  caught  the  animal  by  the  oits, 


253  Heroic  Hans. 

and  held  on  with  all  his  force,  the  result  being  that  the 
horse  stopped  abruptly  and  stood  snorting  and  trem- 
bling, but  doing  nothing  more  alarming  than  to  stare 
in  a  kind  of  wondering  way  at  the  German. 

"Hold  still  alretty,  don'd  it?"  shouted  Hans,  wildly. 
"Let  a  feller  get  der  way  out,  ain't  it." 

Having  said  this  in  the  angriest  manner  possible, 
Hans  dropped  the  bits  and  darted  through  the  gather- 
ing crowd  to  the  sidewalk.  The  horse  looked  after 
him  apparently  more  perplexed  than  ever,  and  then  be- 
gan to  walk  on. 

Diamond  ran  forward  and  caught  him  again  by  the 
bit,  -holding  him  still  without  difficulty.  The  other 
boys  began  to  chaff  Hans  unmercifully. 

"You  show  such  great  skill  in  handling  animals," 
said  Rattleton,  "that  I  should  think  you  were  born  on 
borse  hack,  I  mean  horseback. 

"Hey,  vhat's  dat?"  asked  Hans. 

"If  you  don't  look  out,"  remarked  Browning,  slowly, 
"you'll  get  your  name  in  the  papers  as  a  hero." 

"They'll  be  after  hiring  yeez  for  shortstop  on  the 
Louisville  nine,"  said  Barney. 

"Well,  I  stopped  der  beast,  ain't  it?"  demanded 
Hans,  indignantly. 

He  began  to  feel  that  he  ought  to  get  some  credit 
for  his  action. 

"Pooh!"  retorted  Ephraim,  "the  nag  had  just  got 
tired  running,  and  fell  up  against  yeou.  It  is  a  wonder 
you  didn't  tumble  over  like  a  straw  man." 

"Hey,  vat's  dat?    You  call  me  a  straw  man?" 


Heroic  Hans.  253 

"No,  I  didn't,  but  yeou  weren't  to  blame  for  stoppin' 
the  horse;  yeou  didn't  know  what  yeou  were  doing." 

This  was  the  exact  truth.  Hans  had  been  so  ex- 
cited that  he  had  not  the  least  thought  of  stopping  the 
runaway  and  had  only  put  up  his  hands  at  last  as  a 
matter  of  self-defense;  but  now  that  the  deed  was  done 
he  felt  that  he  ought  to  get  some  credit  for  it  instead 
of  all  this  ridicule. 

"See  here,  hayseed,"  he  exclaimed,  doubling  up  his 
fists  and  facing  Ephraim  angrily,  "I  vas  no  straw  man, 
I  don't  t'ink,  und  no  chay  mit  der  hay  his  hair  inside 
calls  me  so  alretty,  und  I  don't  lick  him  ain't  it  ?" 

There  was  blood  in  the  Dutch  boy's  eye.  He  was 
thoroughly  mad  and  no  mistake. 

Ephraim  saw  this  and  although  he  did  not  mind 
much  being  called  hayseed  or  a  jay,  for  he  was  used  to 
the  joking  of  his  companions,  he  believed  that  Hans 
was  going  to  sail  into  him,  and,  therefore,  raised  his 
fists  for  defense. 

None  of  the  people  around  were  paying  any  atten- 
tion to  them,  for  all  were  more  interested  in  the  horse, 
but  just  then  Frank  came  up,  having  run  from  the 
other  end  of  the  block. 

"I  saw  it  all,  Hans,"  he  cried,  clapping  the  Ger- 
man on  the  shoulder.  "You  did  splendidly,  by  Jove! 
It  was  a  great  act." 

Frank  -had  heard  just  enough  of  the  angry  talk 
between  Hans  and  Ephraim  to  understand  the  situa- 
tion, and  as  he  said  this  he  gave  the  Vermonter  a  wink 
Ephraim  understood  and  immediately  put  down  his 
hands. 


254  Heroic  Hans. 

"Dat  vas  all  right,  Vrank,"  responded  Hans,  looking 
at  Frank  gratefully.  "Dat  vas  all  right  if  you  say  so, 
but  Ephraim  here  he  t'ink  I'm  a  straw  man  alretty." 

"Nonsense!"  he  doesn't  think  anything  of  the  kind," 
said  Frank,  "he's  only  joking  you." 

He  gave  another  glance  at  Ephraim,  who  quickly  re- 
sponded : 

"Thet's  right,  Dutchy ;  I  was  jealous  of  yeou.  There 
isn't  a  fellow  in  the  combine  thet  wouldn't  hev  been 
glad  tew  be  in  yeour  place." 

"Den  you  take  dat  all  back  what  you  said,  don't 
it?" 

"Gracious  Peter!  yes,"  returned  Ephraim,  laughing, 
"I'll  take  anything  back  tew  save  a  row." 

"Let  us  take  a  look  at  the  horse,"  said  Frank,  cer- 
tain now  that  trouble  among  his  friends  had  been 
avoided. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

LOOKING   FORWARD   TO   A   RACE. 

They  pushed  their  way  into  the  crowd  surrounding 
the  horse  and  immediately  after  them  came  a  smooth- 
faced, middle-aged  man,  who  asked,  anxiously: 

"Has  anything  happened  to  the  horse?" 

"No,  Leech,"  some  one  answered,  "Jupiter's  as  sound 
as  ever,  and  quiet  enough  now,  but  if  you're  thinking 
of  racing  him  you  ought  to  keep  him  at  the  paddock." 

"That's  just  where  I  will  keep  hirn  hereafter,"  was 
the  response ;  "I  never  ought  to  have  brought  him  into 
town.  Where  is  the  man  that  stopped  him?" 

Frank  turned  and  pointed  to  Hans. 

"There's  the  chap  that  did  the  trick,"  he  said,  seri- 
ously. 

"Ain't  you  the  young  man  who  dragged  the  nigger 
and  the  applecart  out  of  the  way?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  I  had  a  hand  in  it,"  Frank  responded  "but 
this  is  the  one  who  finally  stopped  your  horse." 

"Nein!  nein!"  exclaimed  Hans,  feeling  rather  awk- 
ward now  that  credit  for  the  deed  was  thrust  upon 
him.  "Der  hoss  stopped  himself  up  alretty!" 

"Don't  you  think  it,  Mr.  Leech!"  exclaimed  Frank, 
earnestly.  "If  my  friend  hadn't  got  in  the  way  there's 
no  telling  how  far  Jupiter  would  have  gone." 

"That's  all  right,  and  I'm  much  obliged  to  your 
friend,"  returned  Leech,  "but  I  didn't  see  that  part  of 


256         Looking  Forward  to  a  Race. 

it;  what  I  did  see  from  the  window  was  the  way  you 
jumped  into  the  street  and  yanked  the  nigger  aside  so 
that  a  collision  was  avoided." 

"That  didn't  amount  to  anything." 

"Don't  you  think  it,  young  man!  If  there  had 
been  a  collision  the  buggy  would  have  gone  all  to 
smash  anyway,  and  Jupiter  might  have  sprung  a  joint 
or  got  some  other  injury  that  I  just  couldn't  stand  at 
this  stage  of  the  game." 

"You  think  a  great  deal  of  Jupiter,  I  suppose,  Mr. 
Leech?" 

"A  good  deal!  Well,  I  should  say  so!  he's  won 
more  money  for  me  than  any  horse  I  ever  had." 

"And  you  think  of  having  him  win  the  Darley  plate 
for  you,  don't  you?"  asked  a  bystander. 

"Yes,"  said  Leech,  "and  after  he's  won  that  race  I'll 
sell  him  for  a  reasonable  price,  and  then  I  shan't  be  so 
anxious  as  to  what  happens  to  him." 

"It  wouldn't  surprise  me  a  little  bit,"  remarked 
Frank,  "if  Jupiter  didn't  win  the  Darley." 

By  this  time  Leech  had  got  to  his  horse's  head, 
which  he  was  stroking  while  he  looked  the  animal 
over  critically  to  see  whether  he  had  received  any  in- 
jury that  had  escaped  the  observation  of  others. 

"Eh,  what's  that?"  he  said,  sharply,  with  another 
keen  glance  at  Frank. 

"Jupiter  is  a  good  horse,"  Frank  responded,  "and 
I  already  know  that  he  can  run  well,  but  I  know  an- 
other horse  that's  entered  for  the  Darley  plate  that's  a 
good  one  and  that  can  run  like  lightning." 


Looking  Forward  to  a  Race.         257 

"Yeou  can  bet  dollars  tew  doughnuts  on  thet !"  added 
Ephraim  under  his  breath. 

Leech  stared  at  Frank  for  a  moment  before  he  re- 
plied. 

"I  thought  I  knew  every  horse  entered  for  the  Dar- 
ley  plate,  except  one  that  was  entered  three  or  four 
days  ago." 

"I  guess  that's  the  one  I'm  speaking  about,"  returned 
Frank,  mischievously. 

"Say,"  said  Leech,  with  great  interest,  "is  your 
name  Merriwell?" 

"Yes." 

"And  are  you  the  young  fellow  from  the  North  that 
has  sent  home  for  his  horse  to  run  in  the  Darley  race  ?" 

"You've  guessed  it,  Mr.  Leech." 

Leech  drew  a  long  breath,  then  whistled,  gave  his 
horse  a  final  pat  and  climbed  into  the  buggy.  After 
that  he  looked  down  at  Frank  and  said : 

"This  is  a  mighty  queer  situation.  Did  you  know 
that  it  was  Jupiter  running  away  when  you  tackled  the 
nigger  woman?" 

"No,  I  didn't.  I  didn't  know  what  horse  it  was  or 
whose  until  I  came  down  in  to  the  crowd  here." 

"Did  you  know  it  was  Jupiter?"  asked  Leech,  ad- 
dressing Hans. 

"Ya,"  the  German  boy  responded,  "I  heard  some- 
boty  dat  he  vas  Billy  Leech's  Jupiter  in  der  crowd 
speak  out." 

"Oh,  you  did,  eh?" 

"Ya,  I  knew  alretty  dat  he  Jupiter  vas,  und  I  t'inks 
I  save  him  der  race  ter  run." 


258         Looking  Forward  to  a  Race. 

Leech's  brows  wrinkled  as  if  he  found  some  diffi- 
culty in  understanding  the  boy's  mixed  language,  but 
after  a  moment  he  said : 

"Well,  Merriwell,  between  you  and  your  Dutch 
friend  you've  saved  the  horse  that's  going  to  beat  you 
for  the  Darley  plate." 

With  this,  he  told  Jupiter  to  get  up  and  drove  away 
before  Frank  had  time  to  make  any  reply,  even  if  he 
had  thought  of  doing  so. 

"Billy  can't  understand  that,"  remarked  one  of  the 
bystanders,  with  a  laugh. 

"Understand  what,  sir?"  asked  Frank. 

"Why,  Billy  Leech  is  a  good  deal  of  a  sport,  but  not 
quite  enough  of  a  one  to  lose  good  naturedly;  he'd 
rather  most  anything  would  happen  than  lose  a  race, 
and  what  he's  thinking  of  is  that  if  it  was  your  horse 
that  was  running  away  he'd  have  let  him  run  to  thun- 
deration  and  make  himself  fit  for  nothing  except  the 
soap  factories  before  Bill  would  put  out  a  hand  to 
stop  him." 

"That  doesn't  sound  like  a  true  Kentucky  sjx>rt," 
remarked  Frank. 

His  informant  laughed  rather  disagreeably. 

"There  are  sports  and  sports,"  he  responded,  "and 
in  Kentucky  as  everywhere  else  there  are  men  who 
claim  to  be  gentlemen  who  don't  deserve  the  title." 

Now  that  Leech  had  driven  away  with  the  horse 
there  was  nothing  further  to  interest  the  crowd,  and 
it  began  to  disperse  rapidly.  Frank  and  his  friends 
went  on  together. 


Looking  Forward  to  a  Race.         259 

"What  do  you  think  of  Jupiter,  Frank  ?"  asked  Dia- 
mond 

"He's  a  fine-looking  animal,"  answered  Frank,  "but 
I  can't  see  any  reason  why  I  shouldn't  hope  to  beat 
him  with  May  fair." 

"Mayfair  must  be  a  mighty  good  horse,  then." 

"A  thoroughbred,"  said  Frank,  shortly. 

"He's  got  to  be  to  beat  Jupiter." 

"Well,"  remarked  Frank,  quietly,  "we  shan't  weep 
if  we  lose.  We'll  have  a  good  fair  race  of  it,  and  if 
Jupiter  wins  why  we'll  go  on  and  tackle  the  next 
thing." 

"I  hope  Mayfair  will  win,  not  only  because  he  is 
your  horse,  Frank,  but  because  I  took  an  intense  dis- 
like to  that  man  Leech. 

"I  don't  think  myself,"  said  Frank,  "that  he's  the 
kind  of  a  man  I  should  like  to  chum  with." 

"Chum  with!"  exclaimed  Diamond,  in  disgust. 
"Why,  he  didn't  so  much  as  say  thank  you  to  either 
you  or  Hans." 

"Oh,  well!  he  admitted  that  we  had  done  him  a 
service." 

"Yes,  but  in  such  a  gruff  way  that  he  might  as  well 
have  said  nothing." 

Frank  made  no  response;  he  had  felt  as  Diamond 
did,  that  Leech's  manner  was  far  from  that  of  a  gentle- 
man, but  he  had  taken  no  especial  dislike  to  him  for 
the  general  reason  that  he  had  no  expectation  of  meet- 
ing Leech  again  excepting  as  they  should  meet  on 
the  race  course  and,  therefore,  he  did  not  think  the 
man  worth  any  further  thought. 


*6o         Looking  Forward  to  a  Race. 

The  Yale  Combine  had  decided  to  send  their  bi- 
cycles home  by  train  and  journey  eastward  by  easy 
stages,  taking  in  as  they  went  every  important  ath- 
letic or  sporting  event  they  could  hear  of  for  the  pur- 
pose of  witnessing  the  event  in  any  case,  and  taking 
part  in  the  sport  if  possible. 

As  we  know,  they  had  had  several  interesting  meets 
in  the  Southwest,  and  as  they  approached  Kentucky 
they  very  naturally  thought  of  the  fame  the  State  has 
for  thoroughbred  horses,  and  made  inquiries  as  to  any 
races  that  had  been  arranged  for  the  near  future. 

They  learned  that  a  racing  meet  was  about  to  open 
in  the  park  called  Churchill  Downs,  near  Louisville, 
and  as  there  was  no  other  sporting  or  athletic  event 
in  progress  anywhere  near,  they  decided  to  see  what 
could  be  done  there. 

It  did  not  look  at  first  as  if  they  could  do  any  more 
than  join  the  spectators  at  the  races,  which  was  not 
so  much  to  their  liking  as  taking  part  in  the  contest. 

Then  Frank  electrified  them  by  announcing  that 
he  was  going  to  enter  a  horse  in  one  of  the  races. 

It  seemed  that  one  of  the  most  important  races  of 
the  meet  was  one  called  the  Darley  plate;  this  was 
for  gentlemen  riders,  that  is,  for  horses  ridden  by  their 
owners. 

It  was  not  to  come  off  until  the  meet  had  been 
in  progress  for  a  few  days,  and  this  gave  Frank  time  to 
send  to  his  Northern  home  for  his  horse. 

His  friends  in  the  combine  were  wild  with  interest 
over  the  event,  for  it  was  unlike  anything  they  had  un- 
dertaken heretofore ;  so  they  encouraged  Frank  to  en- 


Looking  Forward  to  a  Race.         261 

ter  his  horse,  and  he  had  done  so  at  the  last  possible 
moment  without  knowing  anything  about  the  con- 
testants except  that  William  Leech's  Jupiter  was  put 
down  as  a  sure  winner. 

Then  he  had  telegraphed  home,  and  on  this  day  the 
horse  was  expected  by  fast  freight. 

The  boys  had  started  for  the  station  to  meet  it,  while 
Frank  and  Toots  had  gone  to  make  arrangements  for  a 
stable.  Diamond  asked  him  about  this  as  they  went 
along. 

"I  made  the  best  deal  possible,"  Frank  answered; 
"I  found  that  there  is  a  big  stable  at  the  Downs  in 
which  there  is  room  enough  for  a  dozen  more  horses 
than  there  are  now. 

"The  stable  belongs  to  Col.  Harding,  who  has  taken 
his  string  of  thoroughbreds  to  the  Eastern  race  tracks ; 
his  agent  here  has  told  me  to  take  Mayfair  to  the 
colonel's  stable  and  make  myself  at  home  there." 

"Then  we'll  just  hope,"  said  Diamond,  "that  May- 
fair  comes  along  in  good  condition." 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

A   CHANCE   TO   MAKE   MONEY. 

The  fast  freight  came  in  on  time  and  in  a  splendid 
box-car  by  himself  was  Mayfair.  He  was  taken  off 
at  once,  and  after  he  had  stepped  rather  gingerly  down 
the  inclined  plank  that  was  set  up  for  him  he  neighed 
loudly,  as  much  as  to  say  he  was  glad  the  journey  was 
over. 

There  was  little  doubt  that  he  recognized  his  young 
master,  and  was  delighted  to  see  him ;  he  kept  rubbing 
his  handsome  head  over  Frank's  arms,  and  the  boy 
could  not  turn  without  the  horse  whinneying  and  start- 
ing after. 

All  the  other  boys  stood  around  and  looked  on  with 
great  interest ;  the  most  critical  among  them  was  Dia- 
mond. 

"You've  got  a  good  one  and  there's  no  mistake, 
Frank,"  he  said  at  length.  "I  wouldn't  mind  plunging 
a  bit  on  him " 

"I  wouldn't  bet  on  the  event  if  I  were  you,  Jack." 
Frank  interrupted;  "of  course,  it's  none  of  my  busi- 
ness, as  you'll  do  as  you  please,  but  I'd  rather  put  the 
thing  through  for  sport's  sake." 

"That's  your  way  of  looking  at  it,"  said  Diamond; 
"I  don't  see  much  use  in  running  a  horse  race  unless 
there's  a  little  money  up,  and  whether  you  like  it  or  not 


A  Chance  to  Make  Money.          263 

I  shall  have  something  at  stake  when  the  Darley  plate 
is  run." 

"You  may  lose." 

"Of  course,  but  I  shan't  cry  baby  if  I  do." 

There  was  a  mischievous  smile  on  Diamond's  face, 
and  he  added : 

"I  think  I  know  somebody  who  would  lend  me  my 
carfare  home  if  I  should  get  stuck." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,  Jack,"  Frank  replied,  "but  the 
combine  will  be  in  pretty  bad  shape  if  every  man  in 
it  should  bet  the  same  way  and  lose." 

"Phew !  that  would  strap  us." 

"I  was  thinking  of  that,"  Frank  went  on>  "when  I 
advised  that  you  do  no  betting.  As  I  said  before,  that's 
your  lookout,  and  if  you  do  bet  I  really  think  you 
ought  to  do  so  without  thinking  of  the  possibility  that 
you  can  borrow  carfare." 

"All  right,  then,  I'll  only  bet  what  I  can  afford  to 
lose,  but  I  tell  you  now,  Frank,  that  if  Mayfair  be- 
haves in  practice  as  well  as  he  looks,  I  shall  back  him." 

"It  may  take  him  a  day  or  two  to  get  over  the  ef- 
fects of  the  journey,"  said  Frank,  thoughtfully. 

Without  any  desire  to  win  money  by  racing,  and 
with  only  a  real  sporting  interest  in  the  event,  Frank 
nevertheless  took  the  matter  very  seriously. 

It  would  have  broken  his  heart  to  enter  a  race  and 
lose,  but  he  wanted  to  make  a  good  showing,  and  as 
he  thought  of  Mayfair's  long  journey  from  the  North 
he  began  to  fear  a  little  that  the  horse  would  not  be 
able  to  do  himself  justice. 

At  the  present  moment,  excited  with  getting  away 


264         A  Chance  to  Make  Money. 

from  the  restraint  of  the  box-car,  with  its  constant 
confinement,  the  animal  seemed  capable  of  running  for 
miles  at  top  speed.  Frank  knew  that  this  was  an  in- 
dication of  nervousness  rather  than  staying  power, 
and  he  made  up  his  mind,  therefore,  to  keep  a  con- 
stant watch  upon  the  horse  to  see  that  he  should  not 
be  overdone  or  in  any  way  mishandled  previous  to  the 
important  event. 

He  had  engaged  a  buggy  to  be  brought  to  the  sta- 
tion; Mayfair  was  harnessed  into  this,  and  Frank 
took  Diamond  with  him  in  it  to  Col.  Harding's  stable 
at  the  course  outside  the  city. 

The  other  boys  went  up  to  the  stable  in  a  coach  they 
had  hired  for  the  purpose,  and  a  lively,  noisy  time  they 
had  of  it  on  the  way,  singing  songs  and  letting  off  col- 
lege yells  that  made  the  sleepy  darkies  in  the  fields 
alongside  look  up  in  wonder. 

There  was  a  hotel  at  the  Downs,  and  the  combine 
promptly  engaged  quarters  there,  for  now  that  they 
were  interested  in  the  races  more  than  as  ordinary 
spectators  they  didn't  care  about  being  in  the  city. 

For  that  matter,  no  city  ever  had  much  attraction 
for  them;  they  preferred  to  be  out  in  the  open  air,  ard 
the  only  thing  that  troubled  them  here  was  the  fact 
that  there  was  so  little  for  each  of  them  to  do. 

Bruce  Browning  naturally  had  no  regret  for  this. 

"I  think  I  shall  have  a  good  time  here,"  he  growled, 
lazily,  "for  it's  the  first  time.  Merriwell,  since  you  got 
me  into  this  racket  that  I  haven't  had  to  work  like  a 
plowhorse." 

"I  was  just  going  to  suggest,"  responded  Frank, 


A  Chance  to  Make  Money.          265 

mischievously,  "that  you  act  as  Mayfair's  hostler  un- 
til the  race  is  run." 

"Nit,"  retorted  Browning.  "I  know  you  better  and 
you  know  me  better." 

"Well,  but  how  will  you  pass  the  time?"  asked 
Frank,  solemnly. 

"Don't  you  worry  about  me,"  was  the  reply.  "I'm 
going  to  find  the  softest  spot  I  can  up  in  the  hay  and 
fit  myself  into  it;  if  I  happen  to  be  awake  when  the 
Darley  plate  comes  off  I'll  get  up  and  take  it  in,  but 
besides  that  I  don't  intend  to  stir." 

"Go  on  wid  yeeze  for  a  loafer !"  exclaimed  Barney. 
"Yeez'll  be  at  the  rail  ahead  of  anybody,  and  there'll 
be  noo  rooting  for  the  rest  of  us  because  of  the  noise 
yeez'll  make  when  May  fair  comes  down  the  home 
stretch." 

"Oh!  I'll  yell  for  Mayfair  fast  enough,"  responded 
Browning,  "if  I  happen  to  be  awake." 

"Say,  Frank,"  said  Ephraim,  "speaking  of  hostlers, 
I've  had  a  heap  tew  dew  with  horses  when  Fve  been 
to  hum ;  I'm  jest  hankerin'  tew  help  yew  tew  take  care 
of  thet  nag." 

"All  right,  Eph,  you're  the  very  one  that  I  was 
thinking  I  should  like  to  help." 

"Bully!     What  shall  I  do  first?" 

"Give  him  a  good  rubbing  down.  If  he  was  a  child 
instead  of  a  horse  I  should  say  give  him  a  bath,  for  he 
needs  it  badly.  His  coat  is  thick  with  dust  from  his 
long  journey." 

"All  right,  Frank,  I'll  make  him  shine  like  a  new 
cent,  by  gosh!" 


266         A  Chance  to  Make  Money. 

Ephraim  immediately  sat  down  on  the  stable  floor 
and  pulled  off  his  shoes  and  stockings. 

"No  use  in  gettin'  my  shoes  spoiled,"  he  remarked, 
when  some  one  of  the  others  looked  at  him  in  surprise, 
"I'm  tew  dew  this  job  thorough,  I  be,  an'  I  hev  always 
noticed  thet  the  best  hostlers  go  'round  stables  bare- 
foot" 

"Say,  Frank,"  said  Hodge,  strolling  in  from  the  out- 
side, "there's  a  man  named  Terry  outside  there  who 
wants  to  see  you." 

Frank  knew  nobody  in  Kentucky  by  that  name,  but 
he  went  out,  nevertheless,  and  saw  Diamond  in  con- 
versation with  a  sharp-eyed,  dark- faced  man  who  ap- 
peared to  be  about  forty  years  old. 

"Here  comes  the  owner  of  Mayfair,  Mr.  Terry," 
Diamond  said,  as  Frank  approached. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Merriwell,"  exclaimed  Terry, 
holding  out  his  hand. 

Frank  took  it  and  made  a  polite  response. 

"Fine  horse  you  have  there,"  remarked  Terry,  with 
a  quick,  sharp  glance  into  Frank's  eyes. 

"I  always  thought  pretty  well  of  him,"  was  Frank's 
quiet  response. 

"I  don't  happen  to  know  his  record,"  Terry  went  on ; 
"from  the  time  he  was  entered  I  looked  over  my  ra- 
cing books,  and  I  don't  remember  that  I  saw  Mayfair 
down  anywhere  excepting  that  the  name  was  given 
and  his  pedigree " 

"His  pedigree  has  been  published  as  a  matter  of 
record,"  interrupted  Frank,  "but  Mayfair  has  never 
run  in  a  public  race." 


A  Chance  to  Make  Money.       '  267 

"You  don't  say  so!  Then  this  is  his  maiden  ef- 
fort?" 

"In  public,  yes." 

"But  he  has  raced  in  private?" 

"Oh,  yes,  a  few  times." 

"You've  some  notion,  then,  as  to  how  well  he  can 
do,  what  time  he  makes,  and  so  on?" 

"I've  a  rather  clear  idea  of  what  he  can  do  when  he's 
in  good  condition,  Mr.  Terry." 

"Ah!  yes,  his  condition;  and  -hasn't  he  stood  the 
journey  well?" 

"Very  well  indeed." 

"Then  you  believe  he'll  be  in  fine  shape  for  the  Dar- 
ley  plate?" 

"I  hope  so." 

"You  wouldn't  think,"  said  Diamond,  proudly,  "that 
Mayfair  has  come  a  thousand  miles  or  so  on  a  freight 
train  if  you  were  to  look  at  him." 

"I  have  looked  at  him,"  said  Terry.  "I  went  down 
to  the  station  to  see  him,  and  I  watched  him  as  he  was 
driven  away.  Great  horse,  sir,  great  horse !  I  should 
like  to  know  him  better." 

This  was  said  with  another  of  those  quick  glances 
at  Frank. 

"You  shall  have  as  much  opportunity  as  anybody 
else  for  knowing  him  better,  Mr.  Terry,"  Frank  said. 
"My  only  desire  is  to  run  a  good  race,  and  I  want  the 
best  horse  to  win.  Mayfair  will  be  exercised  where 
anybody  who  cares  to  do  so  can  look  on." 

"Ah,  yes,  very  sportsmanlike." 


268          A  Chance  to  Make  Money. 

Terry  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then,  rather  doubt- 
fully, said: 

"Could  I — could  I  have  a  word  with  you  in  private, 
Mr.  Merriwell?" 

"Oh,  excuse  me,"  said  Diamond,  hastily,  "I  wasn't 
aware  that  I  was  in  the  way." 

Frank  was  on  the  point  of  insisting  that  he  had  no 
secrets  from  his  friends,  and  that  whatever  Terry  had 
to  say  should  be  said  in  Diamond's  presence,  but  the 
latter  took  himself  away  in  a  hurry. 

"You're  a  stranger  in  Kentucky,  Mr.  Merriwell," 
began  Terry  at  once. 

Frank  nodded. 

"I'm  greatly  interested  in  horses,"  Terry  went  on. 
"I  always  attend  the  races  and  generally  make  a  plunge 
or  two.  I  have  the  reputation  of  picking  more  win- 
ners than  any  other  man  in  the  State." 

"I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Terry,"  Frank  responded, 
coldly,  "but  I  have  no  special  interest  in  that  matter, 
for  I  am  not  racing  with  any  idea  of  making  money 
out  of  it." 

"Ah,  indeed!" 

Terry  looked  disappointed. 

"You  just  back  your  own  horse,"  he  said,  "and  if 
you  lose  you  stand  your  loss  and  look  pleasant,  I  sup- 
pose, that's  it,  isn't  it?" 

"I  don't  bet  one  way  or  the  other,"  said  Frank. 

Terry  stared.  It  was  evident  that  he  did  not  be- 
lieve Frank;  he  could  not  understand  even  as  well  as 
Diamond  did,  how  a  man  could  take  an  interest  in  a 
fcorse  race  without  betting  on  it. 


A  Chance  to  Make  Money.          269 

He  seemed  to  be  thinking  it  over  for  a  moment  and 
apparently  he  concluded  that  Frank  was  trying  to  lead 
him  on,  for  he  said : 

"I  presume  we  shall  understand  each  other  after  a 
moment,  Mr.  Merriwell." 

"I  don't  know  what  there  is  to  misunderstand,"  was 
Frank's  response.  "One  of  my  friends  told  me  that 
you  wished  to  see  me." 

"Ah,  yes !  and  I  suppose  you  prefer  I  would  come  to 
the  point  at  once?" 

"Very  much  so,  as  I  want  to  look  after  my  horse." 

"Well,  it's  just  this,  Mr.  Merriwell.  Billy  Leech 
is  a  most  unpopular  character  down  here." 

"I'd  already  got  that  idea." 

"Quite  likely,  but  you  can't  understand  it  all  unless 
you  are  familiar  with  the  history  of  racing  events  in 
Kentucky. 

"Billy  Leech  don't  enter  in  many  races,  but  when 
he  does  he  usually  wins;  when  he  doesn't  he  makes  a 
terrible  row  about  it.  It's  got  so  now  that  oftentimes 
a  man  won't  enter  a  horse  in  the  race  with  Leech  be- 
cause it's  likely  to  be  so  disagreeable." 

Frank  said  nothing,  and  after  a  slight  pause  Terry 
continued : 

"Now,  there's  quite  a  number  of  men  besides  my- 
self who  were  pleased  that  a  Northern  horse  had  been 
entered  for  the  Barley  plate. 

"They  hoped  that  it  was  a  horse  that  would  beat 
Leech,  and,  like  myself,  a  good  many  of  them  went 


270         A  Chance  to  Make  Money. 

down  to  the  railroad  station  to  see  what  kind  of  an  ani- 
mal you  had  brought  along. 

"Like  myself,  Mr.  Merriwell,  they  were  greatly 
pleased  with  the  sight  of  Mayfair,  and  there  isn't  a 
man  of  them  that  doesn't  think  he  can  walk  away  with 
Jupiter." 

"I'm  glad  they  think  so  well  of  him,"  said  Frank, 
"but  I  must  say  I  don't  see  what  you're  coming  to." 

"You  wait  a  bit,  and  I'll  get  there,"  answered  Terry. 
"I'm  on  the  home  stretch  now ;  the  point  is  just  this." 

Here  his  voice  sank  to  a  whisper. 

"All  these  fellows  being  anxious  to  -have  Jupiter 
beaten,  and  being  pleased  with  Mayfair,  will  go  off  and 
bet  a  pot  of  money  on  your  horse. 

"Leech,  being  in  the  race  already,  will  take  every- 
thing that's  offered  clear  up  to  the  limit,  so  you  see 
he'll  stand  to  win  or  lose  a  big  pot. 

"Now  as  long  as  he's  taking  everything  that's 
offered  and  the  other  fellows  are  confident,  there'll  be 
plenty  of  money  up  and  so  there'll  be  one  of  the  most 
glorious  chances  to  rake  off  a  pot  for  yourself,  see?" 

"I  told  you  I  didn't  intend  to  back  my  horse!"  said 
Frank,  starting  to  return  to  the  stable. 

"Wait  a  minute,  Mr.  Merriwell,  you  don't  catch  my 
drift  yet." 

Terry  caught  him  by  the  sleeve  and  pulled  him  back. 
The  conversation  was  extremely  disagreeable  to  Frank, 
but  he  thought  it  better  to  hear  it  out  than  to  have 
trouble;  so  he  waited  while  Terry  explained  himself 
further. 


A  Chance  to  Make  Money.          271 

"You're  a  stranger  here,"  said  Terry,  "and  of  course 
it  don't  make  very  much  difference  to  you  really 
whether  you  win  the  race  or  not.  You  could  stand 
losing  the  race,  couldn't  you  ?" 

"I  hope  so." 

"Well,  then,  suppose,  contrary  to  everybody's  ex- 
pectations and  hopes,  that  Mayfair  didn't  win?  Just 
suppose  that  Mayfair  put  up  a  mighty  good  race  and 
that  Juupiter  won  by  a  length  or  even  by  a  neck,  eh?" 

"Well,  suppose,"  said  Frank,  sharply.  "What, 
then?" 

"Why,  don't  you  see,"  said  Terry,  "those  of  us  who 
put  our  money  up  on  Jupiter  would  be  very  glad  to 
divide  our  winnings  with  you?" 

For  the  space  of  about  one  second  Frank  looked 
Terry  straight  in  the  eye  while  his  face  flushed  a  deep 
crimson  and  then  became  very  pale. 

It  was  only  about  a  second,  but  it  was  long  enough 
to  give  Terry  time  to  see  that  he  had  made  a  mistake 
in  suggesting  a  crooked  deal  to  this  young  man,  and 
he  began  to  edge  away. 

His  lips  parted,  mumbling  some  kind  of  an  apology, 
but  he  had  not  spoken  many  words  before  he  stopped 
abruptly. 

Frank's  arm  shot  forward  like  the  piston  rod  of  a 
locomotive,  and  his  fist  had  landed  squarely  on  Terry's 
jaw.  Terry  threw  up  both  hands  too  late  to  ward 
off  the  blow,  and,  staggering  back,  sat  down  heavily 
upon  the  turf. 


272         A  Chance  to  Make  Money. 

Frank  calmly  took  out  his  handkerchief  and  began 
to  wipe  his  knuckles. 

"I  hate  to  soil  my  fist,"  he  said,  contemptuously, 
"on  a  mouth  like  that,  but  the  next  time  you  try  to 
talk  to  me  perhaps  you'll  be  a  little  more  decent  about 
it" 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

CALTROPS. 

Two  or  three  of  the  combine  were  standing  in  the 
stable  doorway  when  this  occurred.  They  did  not  know 
what  was  the  matter  or  suspect  it,  but  they  saw  Frank 
knock  the  stranger  down. 

That  was  enough  for  them.  They  gave  a  yell  that 
aroused  all  the  others,  and  they  came  running  across 
the  turf  to  his  assistance. 

"What's  he  tried  to  do  to  you,  Frank?"  exclaimed 
Rattleton. 

"He  insulted  me,"  Frank  answered,  "but  he  won't 
do  so  again;  let  him  alone." 

Terry  got  up  slowly,  pressing  his  'hand  to  his  bruised 
jaw.  There  was  a  spot  or  two  of  blood  there. 

"You'll  be  sorry  for  this,  young  fellow,"  he  mut- 
tered, and  his  voice  trembled  with  rage. 

"I  don't  think  so,"  Frank  returned.  "You  insulted 
me." 

"Insulted  you,  has  he?"  cried  Rattleton,  excitedly. 
"Shall  I  give  another  jiff  in  the  baw,  I  mean  biff 
on  the  jaw?" 

Rattleton  was  dancing  around  wildly,  spoiling  for 
a  fight,  and  Terry  backed  away  uneasily. 

"No,  no,"  exclaimed  Frank,  laying  his  hand  on  Rat- 
tleton's  arm,  "he's  a  miserable  cur  and  one  slap  is 
enough.  Let's  go  back  to  the  stable." 


274  Caltrops. 

"I'll  make  you  regret  this  the  longest  day  you  ever 
lived,  you  young  ruffian!"  called  Terry  after  them. 

"Give  me  lave  to  thump  him,  Frank,"  cried  Barney. 

"You're  an  infernal  coward,  Merriwell!"  shouted 
Terry,  his  voice  growing  louder  as  the  boys  walked 
away.  "You're  surrounded  with  a  pack  of  Northern 
toughs,  but  if  you  were  alone  now " 

Frank  turned  around  calmly,  giving  a  gesture  to  his 
friends  to  remain  where  they  were,  and  walked  slowly 
toward  Terry.  The  latter  gave  him  one  look,  then 
wheeled  about  and  ran  away  at  full  speed. 

The  members  of  the  combine  laughed  derisively. 
Terry  turned  for  a  moment  and  shook  his  fist  at  them, 
but  continued  on  without  stopping. 

"What  was  it  all  about,  Frank?"  asked  Diamond. 
"He  seemed  to  be  a  decent  enough  fellow  when  he  was 
talking  to  me." 

"He  was  trying  to  bribe  me  to  throw  the  race,"  re- 
plied Frank. 

"To  throw  the  race!"  cried  Diamond. 

"Bribe  you?"  cried  Rattleton. 

"He  found  he  ran  up  against  the  wrong  customer, 
didn't  he?"  asked  Bruce. 

"Well,  the  less  said  about  it  the  better,"  answered 
Frank,  frowning.  "It's  mighty  unpleasant  to  be  ap- 
proached that  way,  and  it  surprised  me  so  that  for  a 
second  or  more  I  didn't  know  whether  to  hit  him  or 
just  walk  away;  perhaps  I'd  ought  to  have  done  the 
latter." 

"Not  much!"  exclaimed  Hodge,  "you  did  just  right, 
Frank,  but  I  wish  you  could  have  given  us  the  word 


Caltrops.  275 

so  that  we  could  -have  ducked  him  in  the  watering 
trough." 

"No,  no,  it's  better  as  it  is ;  if  I'd  kept  my  temper  I 
tnight  have  been  able  to  show  him  that  he  had  tackled 
the  wrong  man  with  such  a  scheme  and  he  might  have 
gone  away  without  being  mad  about  it ;  as  it  is  I  cer- 
tainly made  him  an  enemy " 

"What  do  you  care  about  an  enemy  of  that  kind?" 
asked  Diamond. 

"Oh,  I  don't  care  in  one  sense,  but  it  will  make  me  a 
little  anxious  until  the  race  is  run." 

"Do  you  think  he  may  put  up  some  kind  of  a  job 
on  you?" 

"Well,  he  isn't  the  kind  of  a  man  to  do  anything 
openly,  for  he  hasn't  the  nerve,  but  he's  just  made  for 
treachery.  Come  into  the  stable  a  minute." 

All  followed  Frank  into  the  stable,  and  after  they 
were  once  inside  he  closed  the  stable  doors. 

"I  must  say,"  he  remarked,  "that  this  thing  has  ex- 
cited me  a  little  bit ;  it  shows  that  while  we're  in  a  place 
where  true  sport  is  cultivated,  there  are  plenty  of 
crooked  men  ready  to  do  a  crooked  trick." 

"You  mustn't  think  that  he's  a  Kentucky  gentle- 
man, Frank,"  said  Diamond;  "I'm  a  Southerner  my- 
self, and  while  I  know  there  are  mean  men  in  the 
South " 

"I  know  just  what  you're  going  to  say,  Jack,"  in 
terrupted  Frank.     "I  don't  think  any  less  of  Kentucky 
or  of  her  people,  for  this,  but  it  does  make  me  feel 
that  perhaps  we  ought  to  take  special  care  so  as  to  pre- 
vent any  trick  being  done  to  Mayfair." 


276  Caltrops. 

The  boys  agreed  that  it  would  be  well  to  take  pre- 
cautions, but  it  was  rather  hard  for  them  to  decide 
just  what  they  should  do. 

Frank  declared  that  he  was  going  to  sleep  in  the 
stable. 

"There  are  two  or  three  rooms  here  for  hostlers," 
he  said,  "and  they're  all  unoccupied.  I  shall  take  one 
of  them." 

"And  I'll  take  another,"  said  Diamond. 

There  was  a  chorus  of  voices  then  claiming  the  third 
room,  at  which  Frank  smiled. 

"You  can't  all  have  it,"  he  said,  good-humoredly. 

The  loyalty  of  his  friends  did  a  great  deal  toward 
making  him  forget  the  unpleasant  incident  with  Terry. 

"Well,"  said  Hodge,  "Bruce  has  already  chosen  his 
room  on  the  haymow." 

Bruce  shook  his  head  seriously. 

"A  joke's  a  joke,"  he  said,  "and  I'm  glad  enough 
that  we  are  not  entered  in  any  sports  or  games,  but  if 
it  comes  to  defending  the  interests  of  the  combine 
Frank  can  count  on  me  as  well  as  on  anybody  else  and 
he  knows  it." 

"Of  course  I  do,  Bruce." 

"And,"  continued  Bruce,  "if  he  says  the  word  I'll 
stand  up  all  night  outside  the  stable  door." 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  there  won't  be  any  necessity  for 
such  an  extreme  measure  as  that,"  said  Frank,  "but 
what  I'm  thinking  of  is  this: 

"There  are  five  or  six  horses  here  belonging  to  Col. 
Hardy  that  are  looked  after  by  the  stablemen  em- 
ployed at  the  hotel.  Now,  three  of  us,  say  Diamond, 


Caltrops.  277 

Eph  and  myself,  can  occupy  the  rooms  in  the  stable 
and  the  rest  of  you  be  at  the  hotel.  With  so  many  of 
us  it  shouldn't  be  a  difficult  task  to  make  certain  that 
no  trick  is  done  to  Mayfair." 

"That's  so,"  said  one  and  another. 

"And  besides  that,"  added  Frank,  "now  that  I've 
cooled  down  I  don't  much  think  there'll  be  any  trick; 
this  man  Terry  is  just  a  loafer  who  thought  that  be- 
cause I'm  a  boy  it  might  be  possible  to  rig  up  a  scheme 
for  a  crooked  race. 

"He's  found  out  his  mistake,  and  that's  probably  the 
last  we'll  hear  of  him.  I  don't  believe  the  Louisville 
race  course  is  overrun  with  such  fellows." 

"Just  the  same,  Frank,"  said  Diamond,  "you'd  bet- 
ter stick  to  the  arrangement  of  occupying  the  stable 
yourself." 

"Oh,  yes,  we'll  stick  to  that,  but  we  won't  worry  any 
more  about  it.  How's  the  horse  getting  on,  Eph?" 

Eph  had  stopped  his  work  of  rubbing  down  May- 
fair  when  the  excitement  about  Terry  had  withdrawn 
the  others  from  the  stable.  During  the  conversation 
afterward  he  had  stood  with  an  empty  pail  in  his  hand 
listening  eagerly. 

"Oh,  the  nag's  all  hunky,  Frank,"  returned  Eph 
•^ow.  "He's  good  for  a  mile  in  two  minutes  any  time 
you  want  tew  run  him.  I'm  jes'  goin'  tew  get  another 
pail  of  water  at  the  pump  outside  an'  douse  his  feet; 
then  I'll  put  him  in  his  stall  and  let  the  critter  cool 
down  a  while." 

Frank  glanced  at  the  horse,  saw  that  he  was  in  good 
condition  and  nodded  approvingly. 


278  Caltrops. 

"Go  ahead,  Eph,"  he  said,  "the  douse  on  his  feet 
will  do  him  good." 

Eph  was  already  pushing  open  the  stable  doors;  he 
had  his  trousers  rolled  up  to  his  knees. 

The  other  boys  stood  in  the  stable  watching  the 
thoroughbred  while  Eph  went  part  way  across  the  yard 
to  the  pump. 

At  the  very  entrance  to  the  stable  there  was  a  small 
gravel  space,  but  beyond  that  the  ground  was  well 
grassed. 

Eph  had  got  part  way  to  the  pump  when  he  sud- 
denly dropped  his  pail  and  sat  down  in  the  grass  with 
an  exclamation  of  pain.  He  crossed  one  leg  over  the 
other  and  examined  his  foot. 

"Dad  bim  it!"  the  boys  heard  him  say,  "what  in 
thunderation  is  that?" 

"Have  you  stepped  on  a  thistle,  Eph?"  asked  Hodge. 

"More  likely  he's  tackled  the  business  end  of  a  bee," 
remarked  Bruce. 

Eph  was  too  busy  studying  his  foot  to  make  any  re- 
sponse. Frank  and  the  others  strolled  out  slowly  to 
where  he  sat. 

"What's  wrong,  Eph?"  asked  Frank. 

"I  stepped  on  some  darn  thing,"  replied  the  Ver- 
monter,  "that  was  sharp  es  a  knife,  and  I  was  trying 
tew  see  if  any  of  it  stayed  in  the  foot." 

"What  do  you  suppose  it  was?" 

"I  dunno,  seemed  like  'twas  a  spike,  or  a  nail,  only 
sharper,  but  there  ain't  no  boards  lying  around 
here " 


Caltrops.  279 

Frank  and  one  or  two  others  fell  on  their  knees  in 
the  grass  and  began  to  feel  around. 

"Here  it  is!"  said  Hodge,  presently. 

He  held  up  something  at  which  he  looked  rather 
curiously. 

"Let's  see  the  pesky  thing !"  exclaimed  Eph,  reaching 
out  his  hand. 

Hodge  handed  it  to  him,  and  Eph  remarked : 

"Looks  like  a  jackstone  with  the  nubs  filed  down 
tew  points,  don't  it?" 

"It   isn't   a   jackstone,"    remarked   Frank,   quietly. 

There  was  something  in  the  tone  that  caused  all  the 
other  boys  to  look  at  him  expectantly. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it,  Frank?"  asked  Bruce 
Browning. 

Frank  pressed  his  lips  together  and  was  silent  for  a 
moment. 

"May  I  niwer  see  the  ould  sod  ag'in,"  exclaimed 
Barney  Mulloy,  "if  it  don't  seem  as  if  that  quare  bit 
of  iron  with  the  sharp  p'ints  wasn't  made  to  stick  into 
the  feet." 

"That's  it,  Barney,"  said  Frank,  "but  it  wasn't 
intended  to  stick  into  a  human  foot.  It's  a  caltrop." 

"Caltrop,"  repeated  two  or  three  of  the  boys  to- 
gether, "what's  that?" 

Frank  pointed  at  the  piece  of  iron.  It  was,  as  Eph 
had  suggested,  something  like  a  jackstone  in  the  way 
little  arms  reached  out  from  the  central  mass  of  iron, 
but  each  arm  was  sharply  rounded,  and  it  was  so  made 
that  if  tossed  upon  the  ground,  no  matter  how  it  fell, 


280  Caltrops. 

one  of  these  points  would  be  sticking  straight  up- 
ward 

"That's  a  caltrop,"  said  Frank.  "I  never  saw  one 
before,  but  I'm  sure  of  it,  for  I  have  read  about  them. 
They  are  used  in  war  time  to  check  an  advance  of 
cavalry. 

"Scatter  them  over  ground  that  is  to  be  crossed  by 
horses,  and  you're  almost  certain  to  disable  a  great 
many  of  the  animals.  This  one,  you  see,  was  lying 
directly  in  the  route  that  would  be  taken  by  a  horse 
walking  from  the  stable  door  to  the  watering  trough." 

"Then,"  said  Diamond,  aghast,  "you  think  it  was 
put  there  to  disable  Mayfair?" 

"I'm  afraid  so,"  Frank  responded,  gravely.  "At 
any  rate,  where  there's  one  caltrop  there  must  be  an- 
other; let's  look  the  ground  over." 

The  boys  immediately  began  to  look,  with  the  re- 
sult that  in  a  few  minutes  they  had  found  a  dozen  of 
the  mischievous  articles.  They  were  all  placed  about 
as  the  first  had  been  in  the  course  that  would  be  likely 
to  be  taken  by  a  horse  in  going  from  stable  to  trough 
and  back  again. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

PR  AN  K'S   S  H  RE  W  D    MOVE. 

"The  things  were  probably  put  here,"  remarked  Dia- 
mond, "while  we  had  the  stable  door  closed." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,"  Frank  responded,  "and  it 
makes  me  glad  that  I  closed  the  doors." 

"I  don't  see  why,"  said  Diamond,  "for  it  gave  the 
sneaking  scoundrel  a  chance  to  work  without  being 
caught  at  it." 

"Don't  you  see,"  Frank  exclaimed,  "that  by  giving 
him  a  chance  to  work  we've  had  the  chance  to  discover 
that  an  attempt  is  being  made  to  put  up  a  job  on  May- 
fair? 

"I  had  the  doors  closed  so  that  we  might  be  able  to 
talk  alone,  for  I  was  afraid  some  of  the  hangers-on 
around  the  course  would  come  in.  Now,  if  we  hadn't 
found  these  caltrops  we  might  still  be  in  doubt  as  to 
whether  Mayfair  was  in  any  danger  or  not." 

"I  admit,  Frank,  that  it's  a  mighty  good  thing  we 
found  the  caltrops,  for  it  justifies  your  fears  and  shows 
that  we  must  be  on  our  guard  from  now  until  the  time 
of  the  race." 

"Who  do  you  suppose  did  it,  Frank  ?"  asked  Hodge. 

"Why,  I  hadn't  thought  of  anybody  but  Terry." 

"That's  natural  enough,  for  -he  may  have  sneaked 
back  here  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  stable  doors  closed, 


282  Frank's  Shrewd  Move. 

but  do  you  suppose  he's  the  only  one  who  would  like 
to  see  Mayfair  beaten?" 

"Well,  no ;  there  are  probably  others." 

"Bet  your  life  there  are,  Frank,  and  it  would  be  a 
good  scheme  if  we  could  find  out  who  they  are." 

"Rather  difficult  task,  I  am  afraid." 

"But  can't  we  make  an  effort  ?" 

"I  don't  know " 

Suddenly  Frank's  eyes  lighted  with  an  idea. 

"I  have  it!"  he  exclaimed.  "Most  of  the  jockeys 
and  stable  employees  at  the  Downs  are  colored  boys; 
why  shouldn't  we  send  Toots  out  among  them,  let  him 
fall  into  conversation  with  them  and  see  what  he  can 
pick  up?" 

"Bully!" 

"What  do  you  say,  Toots  ?"  asked  Frank. 

"I'se  like  tuh  try  it,"  the  colored  boy  answered,  with 
a  grin.  "Neber  did  no  detective  work " 

"You'll  never  have  a  better  opportunity,"  Frank  in- 
terrupted. "It'll  be  dead  easy  for  you,  for  all  you  need 
to  do  is  to  make  friends  with  some  of  the  boys  around 
the  stables  and  listen  to  what  they  have  to  say. 

"They'll  be  sure  to  talk  about  Mayfair,  and  it'll  be 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  for  you  to  ask 
questions  about  Jupiter  and  Billy  Leech,  his  owner. 
Then  you  can  come  back  and  tell  me  what  the  boys 
said." 

"I'se  do  de  bery  bes*  I  kin,"  said  Toots,  looking 
as  if  he  felt  proud  that  he  was  to  undertake  something 
of  importance  for  Frank  and  the  combine. 

He  left  the  stable  at  once  and  was  gone  three  or 


Frank's  Shrewd  Move.  283 

four  hours.     During  that  time  the  rest  of  the  boys  re- 
mained there  passing  the  time  as  best  they  could. 

There  was  nothing  for  them  to  do,  but  every  one 
of  them  felt  that  Frank's  thoroughbred  was  in  dan- 
ger and  that  it  would  be  wrong  not  to  remain  on 
guard. 

There  were  a  good  many  visitors  to  the  stable. 
They  consisted  of  horse  owners,  jockeys  and  racing 
men  generally,  who  came  in  to  get  a  look  at  Mayfair 
and  to  scrape  acquaintance  with  the  young  owner. 
Frank  welcomed  them  all  politely,  and  willingly  had 
the  horse  walked  out  of  his  stall  on  several  occasions 
in  order  that  the  visitors  might  get  a  better  view  of 
him;  at  such  times,  too,  he  had  Ephraim  remove  the 
blanket  with  which  the  thoroughbred  was  covered. 

Frank  kept  a  quiet  watch  on  all  the  visitors,  but 
saw  nothing  in  the  actions  of  any  of  them  to  arouse 
his  suspicions. 

Many  of  them  spoke  highly  of  Mayfair's  appearance 
and  prophesied  that  he  would  win  easily  over  Jupiter. 
Not  a  few  of  them  appeared  to  be  glad  of  the  prospect, 
and  it  was  evident  that  in  one  respect,  at  least,  Terry 
had  told  the  truth;  Leech  was  a  very  unpopular  man. 

"Jupiter  is  a  grand  horse,"  said  one  of  the  visitors, 
"and  ordinarily  I  should  hate  to  see  a  Kentucky  horse 
beaten  by  a  horse  from  a  distance,  but  I'm  thinking 
more  of  the  owner  than  the  horse,  Mr.  Merriwell,  and 
I'm  free  to  say  that  I  hope  to  see  you  win  out." 

Frank  thanked  the  man  for  his  good  wishes  and 
responded  quietly  that  he  hoped  to  win. 


284  Frank's  Shrewd  Move. 

"But,"  he  added,  "I  shan't  play  the  baby  act  if  I'm 
beaten  in  a  fair  race." 

"You'll  have  a  fair  race,  Mr.  Merriwell,  don't  worry 
about  that." 

Frank  declared  that  he  was  not  worrying  in  the  least, 
saying  that  he  had  the  highest  respect  for  Kentucky 
sportsmen.  So  the  afternoon  passed  pleasantly  enough 
and  the  visitors  who  called  at  Col.  Harding's  stable 
not  only  went  away  with  a  good  impression  of  May- 
fair,  but  with  great  admiration  for  the  thoroughbred's 
owner. 

When  evening  came  Frank  sent  all  the  boys  except 
Eph  over  to  the  hotel  for  dinner. 

"We'll  stay  here,"  he  said.  "There  won't  be  any 
visitors  probably  from  now  on,  and  you  can  have  the 
head  waiter  send  over  something  for  Eph  and  me  to 
eat." 

The  boys  willingly  adopted  Frank's  suggestion,  for 
they  were  ravenously  hungry. 

As  soon  as  they  were  gone  Frank  turned  to  Eph  and 
said: 

"I  suppose  there  was  some  good  reason  why  you 
chose  that  stall  for  Mayfair  ?" 

"I  dunno,"  returned  Eph,  doubtfully,  "it's  'bout  in 
the  middle  of  the  stable  and  right  handy.  I  thought 
'twas  'bout  es  good  a  stall  es  there  was  left  empty, 
don't  yeou?" 

"The  stall  is  good  enough,"  Frank  answered,  "but 
I  don't  believe  we'll  let  Mayfair  stay  there." 

"I  hope  I  ain't  made  no  mistake,  Frank?" 


Frank's  Shrewd  Move.  285 

"No,  you've  done  just  right,  but  I've  got  an  idea 
that  I'd  rather  see  Mayfair  in  some  other  place." 

"Where'll  yeou  hev  him,  then?  There's  plenty  of 
empty  stalls." 

"I  know  there  are,"  said  Frank,  "but  let's  see  if  we 
can't  find  one  that's  occupied  now  that  will  do  by  shift- 
ing the  horses." 

"Ef  yeou  do  thet  yeou'll  hev  a  dozen  stalls  tew 
choose  from." 

"All  right,  let's  look  them  over." 

They  accordingly  went  from  stall  to  stall,  Frank 
paying  more  attention  to  the  horses  in  them  than  to  the 
stalls  themselves.  Presently  at  the  far  end  of  the 
stable  he  halted  and  said: 

"This  one  will  do." 

"Wai,"  remarked  Eph,  thoughtfully,  "ef  yeou  say  so 
I  suppose  it  will,  but  it  appears  tew  me  like  the  meanest 
stall  in  the  layout  and  the  nag  thet's  in  there  now  ain't 
nothing  more  than  an  old  plug.  I'll  bet  he  couldn't 
yank  a  plow  across  an  acre  lot  without  falling  down  in 
the  furrow." 

"What  do  you  think  the  horse  is  worth,  Eph  ?" 

Before  replying,  the  Vermonter  led  the  animal  from 
the  stall  and  looked  him  over  critically.  It  was  evi- 
dently a  very  old,  useless  horse,  although  in  its  day  it 
may  have  been  a  racer. 

"Wai,"  said  Ephraim,  "I  wouldn't  take  him  as  a 
gift,  much  less  pay  out  good  money  for  him." 

"See  that  white  spot  on  the  end  of  his  nose?"  asked 
Frank. 

"H'm,  h'm." 


286  Frank's  Shrewd  Move. 

"It's  quite  like  the  spot  on  the  end  of  Mayfair's, 
isn't  it?" 

"H'm,  h'm,  but  thet  don't  make  a  horse  out  of  him, 
Frank." 

"Sure  enough,  but  it  gives  a  good  excuse  for  chan- 
ging the  stalls.  Shift  the  horses,  Eph,  and  put  May- 
fair's  blanket  on  this  one." 

"What!  dew  yeou  mean  tew  say  thet  yeou're  going 
tew  put  thet  garl  darn  fine  blanket  on  this  old  plug?" 

"That's  exactly  what  I  meant  to  say,  Eph;  I  hope  I 
made  my  meaning  clear?" 

"Wai,  Frank,  there's  no  fault  tew  find  with  your 
language,  but  yeour  idees,  gosh  all  hemlock,  I  never 
hearn  tell " 

"Never  mind,  Eph,"  said  Frank,  with  a  smile,  "just 
make  the  change  as  quick  as  you  can  before  anybody 
comes." 

Ephraim  stirred  himself,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
horses  were  transferred  and  Mayfair's  elegant  blanket 
covered  the  worthless  plug  completely. 

By  that  time  Toots  returned.  His  dark  face  was, 
if  possible,  darker  than  usual. 

"Well,  boss,"  said  Frank,  cheerfully,  "what  have 
you  discovered?" 

"I'se  terrible  scared,  Frank,"  Toots  answered. 

"What's  up?" 

"More  an'  I  can  tell,  but  sufHn's  in  de  wind  foh 
suah!" 

"Well,  what  have  you  heard?" 

"Furst  place,  Frank,  dat  rascal,  Terry,  is  t'ick  wid 
Leech." 


Frank's  Shrewd  Move.  287 

"I'm  not  surprised." 

"Dey's  in  all  kinds  ob  deals  togedder  an'  de  stable 
boys  has  de  opinion  dat  dere  ain't  no  deal  too  crooked 
for  dem  tub  go  intoh." 

"That  doesn't  surprise  me,  either." 

"Leeoh  an'  Terry,"  continued  Toots,  "has  had  dere 
heads  togedder  'bout  a  t'ousand  times  to-day  an'  dey's 
all  de  time  looking  cross-eyed  ober  tuh  dese  here 
stables.  Some  ob  de  jockeys  tole  how  dere's  odder 
men  like  Terry  who  b'long  tuh  Leech." 

"Belong  to  him,  eh?" 

"Yas,  he  owns  dem  like  dey  was  slaves;  dey  do  all 
he  says.  Leech  neber  tries  to  bribe  a  jockey  to  trow 
a  race,  but  it's  one  ob  dese  odder  chaps  dat  does  de 
dirty  work. 

"  'Pears  tuh  me,  Frank,  you'll  hab  tuh  look  twice 
at  eberybody  who  comes  tuh  de  stable.  I  couldn't 
find  out  no  partic'lars " 

"You've  done  more  than  I  expected,  Toots,"  inter- 
rupted Frank,  kindly.  "No  one  would  suppose  that 
these  rascals  would  give  away  their  plans,  but  it's  im- 
portant to  know  that  Leech  and  Terry  are  in  some  kind 
of  partnership.  Go  over  to  the  hotel  now  and  get  your 
dinner." 

Toots  went  away  promptly  and  he  had  hardly  gone 
before  a  long-bearded  man  presented  himself  at  the 
stable  door.  He  wore  spectacles,  a  very  ancient  stove- 
pipe hat,  and  a  long  linen  duster.  In  his  right  hand  he 
carried  a  wooden  box  that  looked  something  like  a 
small-sized  tool  chest. 

"Is  Mr.  Merriwell  here?"  he  asked. 


288  Frank's  Shrewd  Move. 

"That  is  my  name,"  Frank  responded,  "what  can  I 
do  for  you?" 

"Nothing  maybe,"  responded  the  caller,  "but  maybe 
I  can  do  something  for  you." 

With  this  he  handed  out  a  soiled  card. 

Frank  took  it  and  read: 

"Joshua  Tompkins,  Veterinary  Surgeon." 

"I  don't  think  we  have  need  of  your  services,  doc- 
tor," said  Frank,  "but  if  we  should  have  I  shall  be  glad 
to  know  where  to  find  you." 

"You  can  always  find  me,  colonel,"  responded  the 
doctor,  "by  asking  any  of  the  stable  boys  at  the  pad- 
dock. Are  you  quite  sure  that  you  haven't  got  any 
use  for  a  surgeon  just  now  ?" 

"Quite,"  answered  Frank,  shortly. 

"I  heard  about  your  horse  coming  from  a  long  dis- 
tance," continued  the  doctor,  "and  thought  maybe  it 
might  need  a  little  fixing  up." 

As  he  said  this  his  eyes  were  upon  the  stall  occupied 
at  that  time  by  the  old  plug.  As  it  was  after  sundown 
and  growing  dark  outside,  the  interior  of  the  stable 
was  very  gloomy. 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  even  the  mem- 
bers of  the  combine  to  tell  that  the  horse  of  that  stall 
was  not  Mayfair. 

"Well,  you  know,"  responded  the  veterinary,  "the 
owner  can't  always  tell.  I'm  an  expert,  you  under- 
stand, and  I  might  be  able  to  find  some  trouble  that 
had  escaped  your  attention.  Better  let  me  make  an 
examination  of  the  horse.  It  won't  cost  you  nothing, 


Frank's  Shrewd  Move.  289 

and  if  he's  all  right,  as  you  say,  I  shan't  ask  you  to 
buy  any  medicine." 

"Oh,  I've  no  objection  to  your  making  an  exami- 
nation if  you  wish  to." 

Tompkins  stepped  at  once  and  quickly  toward  the 
stall  occupied  by  the  old  plug.  He  did  not  even  take 
the  trouble  to  ask  which  of  the  horses  in  the  stable  was 
Mayfair. 

He  set  his  box  on  the  floor  near  the  stall,  entered 
and  began  to  feel  of  the  horse's  nose  and  throat. 

A  very  little  light  came  into  the  stall  through  a 
small  window  near  the  top.  Frank  could  see  the 
surgeon  bend  his  head  around  so  as  to  look  well  into 
the  horse's  face. 

"He'll  see  that  white  spot  on  the  nose,"  thought 
Frank,  "and  that'll  deceive  him." 

This  apparently  proved  to  be  the  case,  for  the  sur- 
geon continued  to  feel  the  horse  over  without  asking 
questions. 

Once  he  turned  his  head  as  if  to  see  whether  Frank 
was  looking.  At  that  moment  Frank  pretended  to  be 
very  busily  engaged  in  paring  his  finger  nails. 

His  head  was  bent  down,  but  he  kept  his  eyes  never- 
theless upon  Tompkins.  The  veterinary  ran  his  ham', 
under  the  blanket  near  the  animal's  neck  and  pres- 
ently came  out  and  picked  up  his  box. 

"You're  quite  right,  Mr.  Merriwell,"  he  said,  hastily, 
"the  horse  is  in  good  condition.  Good-evening." 

"Good-evening,  doctor,"  responded  Frank,  without 
stirring. 


390  Frank^  Shrewd  Move. 

The  moment  he  had  left  tiie  stable  Frank  turned  to 

Ephraim. 

"Eph,"  he  said,  "run  over  to  the  hotel  and  get  the 
iddress  of  the  best  veterinary  surgeon  at  the  Downs; 
then  go  and  get  that  surgeon  and  bring  him  here  in 
a  hurry. 

"Col.  Harding's  plug  may  not  be  worth  much,  but  I 
don't  want  him  to  die  on  my  hands." 

"What's  the  matter?"  gasped  Ephraim. 

"Never  mind,  but  hurry  after  a  surgeon." 

Ephraim  went  out  on  the  dead  run.  He  was  not 
gone  many  minutes,  but  before  he  returned  the  old 
plug  had  shown  serious  symptoms  of  illness. 

Frank  led  him  out  from  the  stall,  removed  the 
blanket  and  did  what  he  could  for  him,  but  he  was 
certain  that  the  sickness  would  demand  the  skillful  at- 
tention of  a  surgeon. 

When  Ephraim  came  back  he  brought  a  surgeon 
with  him. 

"They  told  me  tew  go  for  Dr.  Hardy,  Frank,  and 
here  he  is." 

"And  here's  your  patient,  doctor,"  said  Frank. 

"Why  it's  one  of  Col.  Harding's  horses !"  exclaimed 
the  doctor. 

"Yes.  He  was  taken  ill  not  more  than  ten  minutes 
ago." 

"One  of  the  oldest  horses  in  the  stable,"  continued 
the  doctor,  who  was  beginning  to  make  an  examina- 
tion. "He's  run  many  a  good  race  in  his  day,  but  it's 
a  long  time  since  he  was  worth  anything." 

Dr.  Hardy  continued  to  make  remarks  about  the 


Frank's  Shrewd  Move.  291 

past  career  of  the  horse  while  he  worked;  presently 
he  exclaimed: 

"In  my  opinion,  this  horse  has  been  drugged !" 

"I  was  waiting  for  you  to  say  so,"  responded  Fran!< 
"and  if  you  hadn't  discovered  it  pretty  soon  I  shouk; 
have  told  you  my  suspicions." 

"What  led  you  to  suspect  it,  sir?" 

Then  Frank  told  him  about  the  call  of  Dr.  Tomp- 
kins. 

"Tompkins,"  snorted  Dr.  Hardy,  "he  may  be  a  good 
surgeon,  but  he's  the  worst  swindler  that  ever  infested 
a  race  track;  you  say  he  put  his  hand  up  under  the 
horse's  blanket?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  I'd  like  to  bet  a  hundred  dollars  that  he  had 
a  hypodermic  syringe  in  his  hand  and  gave  the  horse 
a  dose  under  his  skin.  It's  lucky  you  sent  for  me  as 
soon  as  you  did  for  now  there  is  time  to  save  the  beast." 

"And  it's  lucky,"  thought  Frank,  "that  I  had  the 
idea  of  transferring  Mayfair  to  another  stall,  for  if 
I  hadn't  done  so  it  might  be  Mayfair  whose  life  was 
in  danger  instead  of  Col.  Harding's  old  plug." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

A     NOISY     NIGHT. 

Dr.  Hardy  worked  with  a  will  and  in  the  course  of 
a  couple  of  hours  pronounced  the  horse  out  of  dan- 
ger. Frank  then  gave  him  a  handsome  fee  for  his 
services  and  asked  him  to  say  nothing  about  the  matter. 

"That  will  be  impossible,"  said  Hardy,  "for  any 
number  of  people  saw  your  friend  come  for  me  and 
they'll  suppose  that  it  was  your  horse  Mayfair  that 
was  in  trouble;  what  shall  I  tell  them  when  they  ask 
me?" 

"Well,"  Frank  answered,  "I  don't  want  any  lies 
told  about  the  matter.  I  thought  at  first  that  it  might 
be  as  well  to  let  people  suspect,  if  they  would,  that 
Mayfair  had  been  injured,  but  that  would  affect  the 
betting  on  the  race  and  might  lead  some  people  to 
think  that  I  was  up  to  some  kind  of  a  trick.  You 
might  as  well  tell  the  truth  about  it,  doctor." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  would  be  better,"  responded 
Dr.  Hardy,  "and  if  you  say  so  I'll  take  steps  to  have 
that  rascal  Tompkins  arrested." 

"No,  I  wouldn't  go  so  far  as  that.  It's  perfectly 
certain  that  Tompkins  wasn't  alone  in  the  matter." 

"Oh,  of  course  not :  he  was  hired  to  come  here." 

"That  being  the  case,  then,"  said  Frank,  "I  shouldn't 
think  it  worth  while  to  arrest  him,  for  it  wouldn't  make 
us  secure  against  some  other  attempt  of  this  kind." 


A  Noisy  Night.  29) 

"That's  right,  Mr.  Merriwell.  I  could  give  a  good 
guess,  I'm  thinking,  as  to  who  sent  Tompkins  on  this 
rascally  errand,  but  I  presume  likely  enough  you  can 
guess  as  well  as  I." 

"I  think  so,  and  unfortunately  a  guess  wouldn't  be 
strong  enough  to  justify  an  arrest.  We  can't  prove 
that  anybody  hired  Tompkins  to  disable  Mayfair,  you 
see." 

"Quite  so." 

"Then  let  it  be  plainly  understood  that  you  were 
called  to  attend  to  one  of  Col.  Harding's  horses ;  every- 
body will  know  then  that  Mayfair  is  uninjured  and  the 
people  can  suspect  what  they  like." 

All  the  members  of  the  combine  returned  from  din- 
ner before  Dr.  Hardy  had  got  through  with  his  work. 
They  were  a  good  deal  excited  when  they  learned  of  the 
attempt  to  disable  Mayfair  and  it  hardly  needs  saying 
that  they  were  immensely  pleased  when  Frank  told 
them  how  he  had  shifted  the  horses  from  stall  to  stall 
in  fear  that  something  of  this  kind  might  occur. 

"What  will  they  be  afther  tryin'  next  I  dunno,"  ex- 
claimed Barney  Mulloy. 

"I  can't  imagine,"  Frank  answered,  "and  like  enough 
they'll  give  it  up  now,  for  they  must  be  aware  that 
by  this  time  we  are  suspicious  and  on  the  lookout." 

Barney  shook  his  head  gravely. 

"That  kind  of  scoundrels,"  he  said,  "doesn't  give  up 
his  dirty  work,  yez  can  be  sure  of  that." 

"What  do  you  think  yourself,  then,  Barney?" 

"What  do  I  think  they'll  be  thryin',   Frank?     I 


294  A  Noisy  Night. 

dunno,  it's  too  much  fer  me  nut,  but  I'm  thinkin'  we 
got  to  be  on  the  lookout." 

"We've  already  decided  that,  and,  as  I  told  you, 
three  of  us  will  sleep  in  the  stable  to-night." 

"Three  of  yez,  is  it?" 

"Certainly,  the  rest  of  you  can  go  to  the  hotel." 

"All  right,  thin,  if  yez  say  so,  but  I  should  think  yez 
would  want  us  to  stand  picket  all  'round  the  stable." 

"No,  that  would  be  carrying  our  suspicions  too  far. 
I  think  those  of  us  who  are  inside  can  manage  to  keep 
Mayfair  from  coming  to  -harm." 

"You  mustn't  sleep  too  sound  thin." 

Barney  spoke  in  a  very  solemn  tone,  and  Frank  sus- 
pected that  there  was  something  on  the  Irish  boy's 
mind  beyond  what  he  was  saying;  he  was  about  to 
ask  him  some  questions  when  Rattleton,  who  was  out- 
side of  the  stable,  called : 

"Come  here,  Barney!" 

Barney  immediately  went  out,  and  Frank  turned  to 
the  room  that  he  had  chosen  to  sleep  in.  It  was  get- 
ting near  bedtime  and  partly  for  that  reason  and  partly 
because  he  wanted  to  shut  up  the  stable  for  the  nieht, 
Frank  advised  his  friends  to  go  back  to  the  hotel. 

All  except  Ephraim  were  in  a  bunch  near  the  water- 
ing trough  near  the  stable  yard. 

"All  right,  we'll  go  on,"  they  answered. 

They  immediately  started  slowly  toward  the  hotel, 
all  except  Diamond,  who  came  into  the  stable.  There 
was  a  curious  look  of  disgust  on  the  Virginian's  face. 

"I  s'pose,  Frank,"  he  said,  "that  it  would  be  a  good 


A  Noisy  Night.  295 

scheme  to  look  through  the  stable  to  make  certain 
that  there's  nobody  here  before  we  turn  in." 

"I  was  going  to  ask  Eph  to  do  that,"  Frank  re- 
sponded. 

"I'll  do  it  myself,"  responded  Diamond,  "let  Eph 
go  to  bed." 

Eph  had  taken  so  much  interest  in  looking  after 
Mayfair,  and  he  had  worried  so  much  about  the  at- 
tempted tricks  that  he  was  thoroughly  tired. 

Accordingly  he  did  not  need  any  stronger  hint  to 
go  into  his  room,  where  he  threw  himself  down  upon 
the  bed  and  almost  immediately  fell  asleep. 

Diamond  made  a  thorough  tour  of  the  stable  and 
at  length,  having  closed  the  doors,  came  into  Frank's 
room  for  a  moment  before  going  to  his  own. 

"What's  the  matter,  Jack?"  asked  Frank. 

"Oh,  nothing  much,"  responded  the  Virginian. 

"Yes  there  is,  I  could  tell  it  in  your  face  when  you 
came  in,  and  there's  something  in  the  tone  of  your 
voice  now.  Have  you  got  wind  of  some  new  trick?" 

"Well,  not  exactly." 

"That's  a  queer  answer,  Jack." 

"The  trick  -has  nothing  to  do  with  Mayfair,"  said 
Diamond,  hastily.  "I'm  quite  satisfied  that  there's  no- 
body in  the  stable  this  minute  who  is  unfriendly  to 
your  horse." 

Frank  looked  queerly  at  his  friend. 

"Come,  Jack,"  he  said,  "you're  talking  in  riddles; 
explain  yourself." 

"Oh,  it  wili  be  all  explained  soon  enough,"  answered 
Diamond,  with  a  smile,  "I  haven't  any  business  to  give 


296  A  Noisy  Night. 

it  away  and  I'm  not  going  to  do  so,  but  I'm  afraid  you 
won't  have  a  very  peaceful  night  of  it." 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  the  rest  of  the  fellows  have  got  a  crazy  idea 
that  they  want  to  put  up  a  harmless  job  on  Eph;  he's 
a  Vermont  farm  boy,  you  know,  and  they  think  that 
they  can  rattle  him  a  little  without  doing  any  harm; 
they  wanted  me  to  come  into  the  scheme,  but  I  thought 
it  was  too  childish." 

"Great  Scott!  Jack,"  exclaimed  Frank,  "you're  too 
dignified  to  live." 

"I  presumed  you'd  say  something  of  that  kind,  but 
after  a  man  has  been  a  couple  of  years  at  college,  it 
strikes  me  he  might  sober  down  a  bit." 

"Well,  some  of  the  other  fellows  haven't  been  at 
college  so  many  years  as  you  have,  you  know,"  said 
Frank,  mischievously. 

Diamond  flushed  a  little. 

"I  don't  mind  a  bit  of  fun,"  he  said,  "and  the  truth 
is  I've  done  my  share  in  this  matter,  but  I  won't  say 
anything  more  about  it.  Good-night.** 

With  this  he  went  to  his  own  room,  and  Frank  lay 
down  wondering  what  kind  of  a  scheme  the  other  fel- 
lows had  cooked  up  for  worrying  Eph. 

He  was  tired  himself,  and  soon  dropped  to  sleep 
without  much  further  thought  on  the  matter. 

How  long  he  had  been  asleep  he  could  not  tell,  but 
when  he  -was  awakened  it  was  by  a  loud  crowing. 

His  first  thought  was  that  it  was  sunrise  and  that 
he  had  been  awakened  by  barnyard  fowls ;  then  he  ob- 
served that  it  was  perfectly  dark. 


A  Noisy  Night.  297 

"Funny,"  he  thought,  "it  isn't  often  that  a  rooster 
crows  before  daylight." 

Then  there  came  another  crow,  a  very  loud  one,  and 
it  was  accompanied  by  a  lot  of  cackling  and  gobbling 
and  clucking  as  if  an  entire  poultry  show  had  been  set 
down  beside  the  stable. 

"It  must  be  morning,"  he  said  to  himself,  and  was 
about  to  arise  when  he  heard  a  stirring  in  the  next 
room,  which  was  occupied  by  Ephraim.  The  Ver- 
monter  had  got  out  of  bed  and  was  muttering  to  him- 
self. 

"Gol  darn  it!"  Frank  heard  him  say,  "seems  es  ef 
I  hedn't  hed  no  sleep  at  all  and  here  'tis  morning. 
Thunder'n  loud  voices  Col.  Harding's  hens  and 
roosters  -have,  seems  tew  me. 

"Jimminy !  they  wake  up  early  tew ;  here  'tis  so  dark 
I  can't  see  my  way." 

The  noise  of  crowing  and  gobbling  ceased  for  an 
instant  only  to  begin  again  with  greater  vigor. 

Frank  chuckled  and  lay  back  on  his  bed.  Ephraim 
was  evidently  hunting  for  a  lantern. 

"Hang  it,"  he  exclaimed,  "where  did  I  put  the  thing? 
I  was  sartin  I  sot  it  on  this  chair;  'tain't  here  now." 

A  vociferous  crow  came  then.  It  was  so  near  that 
it  seemed  as  if  it  might  be  in  Ephraim' s  room. 

"Gosh  all  hemlock!"  muttered  the  Vermonter,  "I'd 
like  to  wring  that  bird's  neck.  He's  got  voice  enough 
to  sing  bass  in  the  village  choir." 

"I'll  have  to  take  a  hand  in  this,"  thought  Frank,  so 
he  called  aloud: 

"Ephraim !     Oh,  I  say,  Eph,  wake  up,  will  you  ?" 


298  A  Noisy  Night. 

"I  am  awake,"  returned  the  Vermonter,  impatiently. 
"Do  yeou  suppose  I  could  sleep  with  all  thet  clatter 
going  on?" 

"What  clatter?" 

"Why,  didn't  you  hear " 

The  rest  of  his  remark  was  lost  in  a  wild  chorus  of 
crows.  They  seemed  to  come  from  all  over  the  stable. 
When  they  ceased  Frank  called  quietly: 

"I  heard  a  rooster  crow  somewhere  and  suppose  it 
must  be  daylight ;  it's  time  you  gave  Mayfair  a  pail  of 
water,  isn't  it?" 

"Well,  I  can't  find  my  lantern.  I  never  did  hear 
sech  noises  in  any  barn  I  was  ever  in  afore." 

"Cock-a-doodle-do !"  screamed  Ephraim's  bass 
rooster. 

"Dew  hear  that!"  exclaimed  the  Vermonter.  "I'd 
bet  a  doughnut  thet  bird  weighs  forty  pounds." 

"See  here,  Eph,"  said  Frank,  seriously,  "I  don't  be- 
lieve you  shut  the  stable  door  tight ;  I  think  those  birds 
are  inside." 

"There  weren't  any  in  the  stable  when  I  went  to 
bed,"  returned  Ephraim,  confidently. 

"Well,  they're  here  now !"  insisted  Frank.  "You'd 
better  find  your  lantern  and  drive  them  out." 

"But  I  can't  find  my  lantern  anywhere!" 

"Then  go  out  without  it." 

"Gosh,  I  guess  I'll  have  tew." 

Ephraim  felt  his  way  across  the  room  to  the  door, 
opened  it  and  went  out.  His  ears  were  immediately 
deafened  by  another  chorus  of  crows  and  gobbles. 


A  Noisy  Night.  299 

"Jerusalem!"  he  muttered,  "the  barn's  full  of  'em; 
how  will  I  ever  drive  them  out?" 

Then  he  started  in  the  direction  of  the  loudest  crow, 
shuffling  his  feet  along  the  floor  and  crying: 

"Shoo,  Biddy,  shoo!" 

Frank  lay  on  his  bed  almost  suffocating  with  his 
effort  to  keep  from  laughing  out  loud. 

"The  fellows  will  surely  give  themselves  away  for 
laughing,"  he  thought. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence  and  then  Ephraim 
called  in  a  plaintive  tone: 

"I  say,  Frank." 

"Well,  what's  the  matter?"  responded  Frank,  as 
soberly  as  he  could. 

"They  seem  tew  be  up  in  the  hay  loft,"  said  Eph- 
raim, "and  I  don't  believe  I  can  get  them  all  out 
alone." 

"Oh  thunder  and  Mars!  What  are  you  good  for? 
I  thought  you  were  brought  up  on  a  farm,"  said  Frank. 
"I'm  sleepy,  go  ahead  and  rout  them  out  or  we  won't 
get  another  wink  the  rest  of  the  night." 

Ephraim  growled  something  to  the  effect  that  it 
would  take  forty  farm  hands  to  clear  out  a  stable  in- 
vaded by  so  many  fowl.  Then  Frank  heard  him 
climbing-  a  ladder  to  the  hay  loft 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

IN   DANGER. 

As  Ephraim  went  up  the  ladder  the  chorus  of  crcrws 
and  cackles  became  louder.  He  heard  a  great  rustling 
in  the  hay,  too. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  top  he  stood  still  for  a  mo- 
ment. He  began  to  suspect  that  something  was  wrong. 

"See  here!"  he  exclaimed  presently,  "yeou  thunder- 
ing idiots,  get  out  of  this,  yeou  understand?  I  know 
what  yeou're  up  tew.  I  know  yeour  voice,  Bruce 
Browning,  yeou  crow  like  a  caow." 

The  answer  to  this  was  a  wild  whoop,  wholly  un- 
like any  sound  ever  heard  in  a  barnyard. 

"Dad  bim  yeou!"  cried  Ephraim,  "yeou  can't  scare 
me!  There  ain't  no  Injuns  around  here,  and  ef  yeou 
hedn't  stole  my  lantern  I'd  hunt  yeou  up  thundering 
quick  and  pitch  yeou  over  the  edge  to  the  stable  floor, 
I  would,  hang  me  ef  I  wouldn't." 

There  was  another  chorus  of  wild  yells  from  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  stable. 

Hearing  a  particularly  loud  rustling  in  the  hay  close 
by,  Ephraim  made  a  jump  for  the  spot.  He  cauerht 
hold  of  somebody's  foot  and  held  on  like  grim  death.. 

The  one  who  had  been  caught  struggled  hard  to  get 
away,  but  Ephraim  clung  and  presently  they  were 
wrestling  and  striking  at  each  other  in  the  dark  and 


In  Danger.  301 

in  great  danger  of  pitching  one  or  the  other  over  the 
edge  of  the  loft  to  the  floor. 

Frank  thought  that  the  joke  had  gone  far  enough 
and  left  his  room  to  put  a  stop  to  it. 

He  went  out  to  the  stable  floor,  but  before  he  had 
spoken  he  heard  Rattleton's  excited  voice  shouting: 

"Frank !  Frank !  The  farn's  abire ;  I  mean  the  barn's 
afire!" 

"What  ?"  cried  Frank,  making  a  dash  for  the  ladder 
to  the  hay  loft. 

"I  smell  smoke,"  answered  Rattleton. 

"So  do  I,"  said  the  deep  voice  of  Bruce  Browning. 

"Have  you  fellows  been  monkeying  with  matches 
up  in  the  hay  there?"  demanded  Frank,  angrily. 

"No,"  cried  Hodge,  from  another  corner,  "we 
thought  of  that  and  every  one  of  us  emptied  his 
pockets  of  matches  before  Diamond  let  us  in," 

It  was  no  time  then  to  ask  after  the  causes  of  the 
fire,  for  Frank  himself  distinguished  a  strong  smell  of 
smoke.  His  first  thought  was  for  Mayfair. 

He  had  known  of  many  stable  fires  where,  owing  to 
the  fright  the  horses  took,  it  was  impossible  to  get 
them  out  of  their  stalls. 

His  heart  sank  as  he  thought  of  the  possibility  of 
his  splendid  thoroughbred,  as  well  as  all  the  horses  be- 
longing to  Col.  Harding,  might  be  roasted  alive. 

It  flashed  upon  him,  too,  that  this  might  be  another 
trick  of  the  scoundrelly  Leech.  No  matter  what  was 
the  explanation,  the  calamity  must  be  averted  some- 
how. 


3O2  In  Danger. 

"Where  does  it  come  from,  boys?"  he  called,  as  he 
mounted  the  ladder  to  the  loft. 

"Up  this  way,"  answered  Rattleton.  "Upon  my 
word  the  hay  is  burning  right  around  me!" 

All  the  boys  came  running  as  fast  as  they  could 
through  the  darkness  to  the  spot  where  Rattleton  had 
been  concealed. 

Most  of  the  combine  had  crawled  into  the  hay  in 
various  places  about  the  stable,  intending  to  cover  their 
heads  over  if  Ephraim  should  find  a  lantern  and  go 
around  searching  for  the  barnyard  fowl  that  disturbed 
him. 

Rattleton  was  in  a  far  corner  of  the  loft  just  under 
the  roof.  About  ten  feet  from  him  was  a  window 
looking  out  upon  the  southern  side  of  the  stable  and 
about  as  far  in  the  other  direction  was  .another  win- 
dow looking  toward  the  west. 

As  Frank  hurried  across  the  loft  he  saw  a  faint 
flash  of  light  at  the  south  window.  That  was  enough 
to  tell  him  that  the  fire  had  been  set  from  the  outside. 

Rattleton  was  mistaken  in  thinking  that  hay  was 
burning  around  him.  The  fact  was  that  some  straw 
set  against  the  stable  wall  outside  was  afire,  igniting  the 
woodwork,  and  threatening,  of  course,  to  destroy  the 
whole  building. 

The  wind  was  blowing  from  that  direction  and  even 
as  he  crossed  the  loft  two  or  three  sparks  came  flying 
in.  It  seemed  that  they  went  out  before  they  reached 
the  hay,  but  the  terrible  danger  was  plain. 

"Eph,"  called  Frank,  "find  a  lantern  in  my  room 


In  Danger.  303 

and  run  the  horses  out.  Take  Col.  Harding's  out 
before  you  touch  May  fair." 

Eph  scrambled  down  the  ladder  to  obey,  but  before 
he  reached  the  floor  Diamond  was  at  work  ahead  of 
him. 

Jack  had  remained  in  his  room  during  the  crowing 
and  had  not  stirred  until  he  heard  the  cry  of  fire ;  then 
he  had  jumped  up,  lit  his  own  lantern,  and  rushed  to 
Mayfair's  stall. 

Frank's  command,  therefore,  was  disregarded  in 
one  respect;  the  first  horse  to  be  led  from  the  stable 
was  his  own  thoroughbred. 

Then  while  Eph  and  Diamond  continued  to  look 
after  the  horses,  and  having  a  hard  time  of  it  because 
the  animals  got  more  and  more  excited  with  every 
minute,  Frank  and  the  other  boys  worked  to  save  the 
stable. 

At  the  risk  of  suffocation  Frank  put  his  head  out  of 
the  south  window  and  saw  the  pile  of  straw  was  burn- 
ing there.  It  was  a  loose  pile  and  nearly  burned  out, 
but  it  had  caught  on  the  wood  and  tiny  flames  were  be- 
ginning to  lick  their  way  upward. 

"Barney  and  Hodge,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  drew  in 
his  head,  "get  down  to  my  room  and  get  the  chemical 
fire  buckets  there;  take  them  right  around  and  douse 
that  flame!" 

The  two  boys  thus  addressed  hurried  away.  Frank 
knew  that  the  flames  could  be  easily  subdued  by  ore 
throw  from  the  chemical  buckets,  but  that  would  be 
useless  to  save  the  stable  if,  meantime,  the  hay  should 
catch  fire. 


304  In  Danger. 

Accordingly  he  ran  to  the  west  window,  threw  it 
open  and  ordered  the  other  boys  to  begin  to  pitch  the 
hay  away  from  the  window  at  the  south  and  throw  it 
out  of  that  at  the  west. 

Even  as  he  spoke  a  spark  came  in,  dropped  upon  the 
hay  at  his  feet  and  a  little  blaze  immediately  started. 
Frank  caught  it  in  his  hands,  scorching  his  palms,  but 
putting  the  blaze  out. 

Then  he  gathered  up  a  great  armful  of  the  hay,  car- 
ried it  over  to  the  west  window  and  dropped  it  to  the 
ground.  The  other  boys  followed  suit. 

More  than  one  spark  fell  as  they  worked  and  more 
than  one  pair  of  hands  was  scorched  as  they  worked 
to  keep  the  hay  from  burning. 

Every  tiny  blaze  sent  up  a  volume  of  smoke  that 
choked  their  lungs  and  made  their  eyes  water.  Still 
they  worked  heroically,  stumbling  against  each  other, 
panting  for  fresh  air  and  every  one  of  them  in  danger 
of  being  suffocated  and  burned  alive  if  they  should  not 
succeed  in  keeping  the  hay  from  getting  on  fire. 

If  it  had  once  caught  it  is  not  probable  that  one  of 
them  could  have  reached  a  place  of  safety.  Not  one 
of  them,  however,  so  much  as  thought  of  giving  up  the 
effort,  but  it  seemed  to  them  and  to  Frank,  too,  as  if 
Hodge  and  Barney  would  never  get  around  the  stable 
with  the  fire  pails. 

It  was  not  far  that  they  had  to  go,  but  it  took  time 
and  every  second  counted. 

At  last,  just  when  Frank  himself  began  to  despair 
of  being  able  to  put  out  the  constant  inflow  of  sparks, 


In  Danger.  305 

there  was  a  shout  of  triumph  from  beneath  the  south- 
ern window. 

Barney  and  Hodge  had  arrived  there  with  their  fire 
pails  and  one  well  directed  douse  had  put  the  flames  out 
completely. 

The  shower  of  sparks  ceased  suddenly  and  the  stable 
was  saved. 

The  boys  in  the  loft  crowded  to  the  windows  to  get 
fresh  air  and  as  they  stood  there  they  heard  cries  of 
"fire!"  from  a  distance  and  heard  men  running  up  to 
their  rescue. 

The  flames  had  been  seen  by  somebody  and  an  alarm 
given,  but  long  before  the  neighbors  had  come  up  to 
help,  the  fire  was  out.  No  damage  of  consequence 
had  been  done,  but  it  was  evident  that  the  entire  build- 
ing would  have  gone  to  the  ground  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  quick  and  desperate  efforts  of  Frank  and  his 
companions. 

When  the  facts  were  known  it  was  agreed  by  all,  not 
only  the  Yale  Combine,  but  the  people  who  were 
living  at  the  Downs,  that  an  attempt  had  been  made  to 
burn  the  stable  in  the  hope  of  injuring  Mayfair,  and 
thus  preventing  him  from  running  for  the  Darley  plate. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE   RACE   WON. 

"It  was  a  mighty  good  thing,"  remarked  Frank, 
after  the  horses  had  been  put  back  into  their  stalls  and 
the  neighbors  had  gone  away,  "that  you  fellows  put  up 
a  joke  on  Eph." 

"Ahem!  ahem!"  coughed  Rattleton,  with  an  air  of 
great  importance.  "The  members  of  the  Yale  Com- 
bine never  do  anything  that  isn't  exactly  right  I'd 
have  you  understand,  Capt.  Merriwell,  that  in  the 
words  of  an  ancient  and  well-known  mariner,  you  com- 
mand a  right  good  crew." 

"Well,  I  do,  and  I'm  in  earnest,"  responded  Frank, 
seriously.  "The  joke  was  a  good  one,  as  I  think  Eph 
himself  will  admit,  but  the  point  is,  that  if  you  fellows 
hadn't  been  in  the  stable " 

He  paused  and  shook  his  head  gravely.  Eph  an- 
swered for  him. 

"The  barn  would  hev  burned  up!"  he  said,  em- 
phatically. 

"And  Mayfair  wouldn't  have  had  any  chance  for  the 
Darley  plate,"  added  Diamond. 

"That's  it,"  said  Frank,  "and  now  that  this  danger 
is  over  we'll  just  quiet  down  and  wait  for  the  next 
one.  All  this  makes  me  more  and  more  determined  to 
run  in  that  race  and  win  it,  too !" 


The  Race  Won.  307 

"You  vill  do  it,  Vrankie!"  exclaimed  Hans,  "don't 
let  me  make  no  mistakes  dat  about  alreatty." 

Frank  smiled  good-humoredly,  and  as  the  boys  were 
wildly  excited  still,  he  made  no  objection  to  their  plan 
of  keeping  watch  around  the  stable  during  the  rest  of 
the  night. 

They  did  so,  but  without  any  result,  for  nothing 
whatever  happened,  and  during  the  next  two  or  three 
days,  although  the  strictest  watch  was  kept  at  all  hours, 
none  of  them  could  see  that  any  further  attempt  was 
made  to  disable  Mayfair. 

It  really  looked  as  if  Leech  and  -his  gang  of  crooks 
had  given  up  the  effort. 

Meantime  Frank  saw  Leech  once  or  twice,  but  had 
only  a  few  words  with  him.  It  was  impossible  for 
Frank  to  make  any  accusation  against  the  horseman, 
and  the  latter  made  no  more  remark  than  something  to 
the  effect  that  Mayfair  had  had  a  narrow  escape  just  as 
Jupiter  had. 

There  was  an  evil  gleam  in  Leech's  eyes  when  he 
spoke  and  Frank  was  perfectly  certain  that  he  had  been 
back  of  all  the  attempts  upon  Mayfair,  but  nothing 
could  be  said  about  it,  for  there  was  no  proof  to  offer. 

The  day  on  which  the  race  was  to  be  run  came  at 
last  and  there  was  the  usual  crowd  at  Churchill  Downs. 

'The  Darley  plate  for  gentlemen  riders"  was  the 
fourth  on  the  programme.  Previous  to  its  occurrence 
most  of  the  boys  in  the  combine  had  a  pleasant  sur- 
prise. 

It  was  just  before  the  second  race  and  they  were 


)o8  The  Race  Won. 

gathered  in  a  group  by  the  rail  to  watch  it,  when  one 
of  them  asked  wonderingly  where  Diamond  was. 

He  was  certainly  not  among  them,  and,  thinking 
that  he  had  gone  back  to  the  stable  to  be  with  Frank 
and  Mayfair,  they  gave  their  attention  to  the  horses 
who  were  at  that  time  prancing  up  and  down  and  skir- 
mishing for  position. 

One  of  the  jockeys  was  evidently  much  taller  than 
the  others;  thus  he  attracted  their  attention  and  after 
looking  at  him  a  moment  Rattleton  exclaimed: 

"Why,  bless  my  stars,  there's  Jack !" 

The  other  boys  stared  in  wonder  for  a  moment.  It 
was  Diamond  and  no  mistake. 

T-he  jockey  who  had  been  slated  to  ride  the  horse 
Diamond  was  on  had  injured  himself  slightly  and  Dia- 
mond, hearing  of  it,  had  begged  for  permission  to  ride 
in  his  place. 

The  owner  of  the  horse  had  given  a  rather  unwill- 
ing consent  and  now  Diamond  was  in  all  his  glory, 
cantering  about  the  track  perfectly  at  home  in  the  sad- 
dle and  longing  to  win. 

When  the  horses  got  away  it  did  not  look  as  if  there 
was  much  of  a  chance  for  him  to  come  out  ahead,  for 
he  had  not  descended  to  employ  any  of  the  usual  tricks 
of  jockeys  for  getting  a  good  position. 

He  was  far  outside  and  somewhat  in  the  rear  when 
the  starter  dropped  the  flag  and  the  horses  began  the 
race  in  earnest. 

He  showed  his  skill  as  a  rider  almost  before  he  was 
halfway  around,  and  when  it  came  to  the  home  stretch 


The  Race  Won.  309 

it  could  be  seen  that  Diamond  had  as  good  a  chance 
as  the  rest  of  them. 

Down  the  course  they  thundered,  kicking  up  a  great 
cloud  of  dust  that  obscured  the  losing  horses.  Three 
or  four  were  in  the  van  neck  and  neck. 

When  they  passed  the  spot  where  the  Yale  Combine 
stood  the  boys  sent  up  a  great  yell. 

"Bully  for  you,  Jack!     Yale  forever!"       c 

Jack  did  not  so  much  as  turn  his  eyes  in  their  direc- 
tion, but  he  heard  their  call,  and  it  seemed  to  give  him 
greater  nerve,  for  he  lay  far  down  upon  his  horse,  dug 
the  spurs  in  and  the  next  instant  passed  under  the  wire 
just  a  neck  in  the  lead. 

It  was  a  narrow  margin,  but  it  was  sufficient,  and 
Jack  returned  to  his  companions  elated  with  victory. 

The  owner  of  the  horse,  who  had  never  expected  to 
win  more  than  a  place  in  the  contest,  offered  Diamond 
a  hundred  dollars  as  a  fee  for  his  success. 

Diamond  at  first  proudly  refused  it,  but  thought  bet- 
ter of  it  and  took  the  money,  passing  it  over  imme- 
diately to  the  injured  jockey  in  whose  place  he  had 
ridden. 

The  third  race  was  without  interest  for  the  boys  and 
they  let  it  pass  without  looking  at  it ;  they  went  over  to 
the  stable  in  a  body,  where  Frank  was  waiting  for 
the  summons  to  take  Mayfair  to  the  course. 

The  summons  came  at  length  and  when  he  rode  out 
upon  the  track  from  the  paddock  there  was  a  generous 
burst  of  applause  from  the  grand  stand. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  the  great  mapority  of  peo- 
ple there  wished  him  to  win,  and  from  the  wav  t>>e  bets 


310  The  Race  Won. 

stood  in  the  betting  ring  there  was  no  doubt  a  great 
deal  of  confidence  that  the  Northern  horse  would  be  a 
winner. 

Leech's  Jupiter  had  his  admirers,  however,  and  ac- 
cordingly the  betting  was  about  even  between  the  two. 

There  were  four  or  five  other  horses  in  the  race,  but 
they  hardly  counted;  it  was  known  that  they  had  no 
chance  against  Jupiter  and  the  owners  were  riding 
merely  for  the  love  of  sport  and  to  decide  which  of 
their  horses  was  better  than  the  other  without  respect 
to  the  winning  of  the  plate. 

Several  false  starts  vrere  made. 

At  the  first  one  Frank  stopped  his  horse  before  the 
starter  had  given  the  call  to  come  back.  This  was  be- 
cause Leech  had  spurred  his  horse  far  into  the  lead  in 
his  anxiety  to  get  the  advantage. 

The  spectators  saw  and  understood  this  and  there 
were  not  a  few  hisses  at  Leech's  conduct. 

Frank  said  nothing.  His  face  never  changed  its  ex- 
pression, but  he  rode  gently  back  to  the  line,  wheeled 
about  and  started  down  again  with  the  others. 

This  time  Leech  was  a  little  more  careful,  but,  never- 
theless, at  the  last  minute  -he  did  ride  his  horse  ahead 
of  the  others  and  got  it  squarely  in  the  way  of  May- 
fair. 

Frank  rode  on,  thinking  that  possibly  the  word 
would  be  given  to  go,  but  the  bell  sounded,  and  as  the 
jockeys  rode  back  to  their  posts,  the  starter  warned 
Leech  not  to  attempt  any  unfair  trick. 

Leech  responded  angrily  that  Jupiter  was  out  for  a 
race  and  that  it  was  hard  to  hold  him  r 


The  Race  Won.  yii 

"If  you  can't  hold  him  in,"  the  starter  retorted,  "you 
must  get  a  rider  that  can." 

Leech  scowled  but  said  nothing  in  reply.  He  knew 
that  he  was  unpopular  and  that  the  judges  at  Churchill 
would  be  only  too  glad  to  find  some  excuse  for  ruling 
him  off  the  course. 

The  other  false  starts  were  due  to  the  mistakes  of 
the  other  riders,  and  were  without  consequence  except- 
ing as  they  delayed  the  event. 

At  length  the  horses  got  away  in  a  fairly  even  bunch. 
There  was  a  lot  of  applause  from  the  grand  stand  to 
show  that  the  spectators  were  satisfied  that  the  con- 
ditions were  fair. 

The  race  was  to  be  once  around  the  course. 

Frank  held  Mayfair  in  during  the  first  half  of  it 
with  the  result  that  his  horse  was  almost  out  of  sight 
in  the  field  that  was  straggling  some  lengths  behind 
Jupiter. 

Leech  glanced  over  his  shoulder  to  measure  the  dis- 
tance between  himself  and  Frank  and  then  lay  down 
upon  his  horse,  digging  the  spurs  in  as  if  determined 
to  get  such  a  lead  that  Mayfair  could  not  possibly 
overtake  him. 

Frank  knew  his  steed  well.  He  knew  that  he  was 
good  for  half  a  mile  at  top  speed,  and  he  accordingly 
patted  the  horse  on  the  neck  and  whispered  familiar 
words  to  him. 

There  was  no  need  of  using  the  spurs;  the  thor- 
oughbred dashed  forward  and  at  the  first  effort  began 
to  close  the  gap  between  himself  and  Jupiter. 

The  audience  that  had  been  watching  the  contest 


)I2  The  Race  Won. 

with  some  doubt  had  now  begun  to  cheer  wildly,  for 
they  saw  that  Mayfair  was  unquestionably  the  letter 
horse  and  that  it  was  sure  to  win. 

Around  the  three-quarter  curve  they^came,  and  whe. 
they  entered  the  home  stretch  Mayfair  had  come  up 
with  Jupiter  and  was  passing  him  with  apparent  ease. 

The  field  was  hopelessly  behind. 

Frank  was  determined  that  the  victory  should  be 
a  complete  one,  and  he,  therefore,  did  not  spare  his 
horse  as  they  came  down  the  stretch. 

He  could  have  allowed  Mayfair  to  let  up  to  a  mod- 
erate canter  and  still  pass  under  the  wire  ahead,  but 
he  made  up  his  mind  that  the  distance  between  him 
and  Jupiter  should  be  as  great  as  possible. 

Accordingly  he  kept  the  pace  and  the  lead  increased 
with  every  stride. 

The  big  crowd  was  howling  itself  hoarse  at  the 
victory  of  the  favorite  when  to  everybody's  surprise 
and  horror,  Mayfair  veered  suddenly  to  one  side  and 
then  stood  up  on  his  hind  legs  with  a  frightfully  loud 
neigh. 

Frank  was  pitched  to  the  ground  head  downward. 
No  rider  could  have  kept  his  saddle  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. 

Worst  of  all  his  foot  caught  in  the  stirrup  so  that 
he  could  not  free  himself  and  there  was  danger  that 
he  would  be  trampled  to  death  by  the  excited  thor- 
oughbred. 

As  Frank  fell,  Leech  sprang  forward  directly  toward 
the  prostrate  lad. 

Then  another  shout  went  up  from  the  spectators.    It 


The  Race  Won.  313 

was  as  plain  as  day  that  Leech  in  his  anger  intended  to 
run  his  rival  down. 

That  he  did  not  succeed  in  doing  this  was  due 
wholly  to  the  excitement  of  Mayfair.  The  horse  came 
down  on  his  fore  feet,  gave  one  wild  prance,  and  then 
jumped  to  the  side  of  the  course. 

As  Frank's  foot  was  still  caught  in  the  stirrup  he 
was  dragged  across  the  ground  and  so  just  escaped 
the  pounding  of  Jupiter's  hoofs. 

Mayfair  staggered  up  against  the  railing  and  stood 
there  panting  and  trembling  while  Jupiter  thundered 
past  and  crossed  under  the  line  an  apparent  winner, 
while  the  field  straggled  up  and  stopped  beside  the 
fallen  rider. 

Then  there  was  the  wildest  excitement. 

It  was  found  that  Frank  was  not  injured  beyond 
a  few  bruises  of  no  importance,  but  the  excitement 
continued  because  there  were  so  many  who  had  plunged 
heavily  on  the  race  and  had  lost  when  victory  seemed 
to  be  in  their  grasp. 

Then  word  came  that  bets  were  not  to  be  paid  until 
the  judges  had  made  an  investigation. 

This  was  done  at  Frank's  demand,  for  as  soon  as  he 
had  had  his  foot  unfastened  from  the  stirrup,  he  made 
an  examination  of  Mayfair  that  convinced  him  that 
another  trick  had  been  played  and  that  this  time  it 
had  succeeded. 

There  was  a  tiny  wound  upon  Mayfair's  left  shoul- 
der. 

The  result  of  the  investigation  showed  that  this 
wound  had  been  made  by  a  bullet  from  an  air  gun 


314  The  Race  Won. 

held  by  Dr.  Tompkins  who  had  stood  by  himself  at 
the  rail  a  little  distance  up  the  course. 

The  plan  was,  if  it  seemed  certain  that  Mayfair  was 
to  win,  that  he  should  fire  at  the  horse  with  the  inten- 
tion of  doing  exactly  what  he  -had  done,  that  is,  caus- 
ing Mayfair  to  halt. 

Tompkins  had  thought  that  he  could  make  a  wound 
that  would  not  be  seen,  but  in  his  anxiety  to  succeed 
he  had  charged  his  gun  too  heavily. 

The  result  was  that  the  blood  trickled  from  the 
horse  thus  showing  what  had  been  done,  and  when  the 
air  gun  was  found  across  from  the  spot  where  Mayfair 
had  reared,  it  was  not  difficult  to  trace  it  to  Tompkins' 
hands. 

The  other  steps  in  the  investigation  followed  with 
equal  certainty  to  the  end  that  it  was  proven  that  Leech 
had  conspired  with  Tompkins,  Terry  and  one  or  two 
other  scoundrels  to  disable  Mayfair. 

Consequently  the  Darley  plate  was  awarded  to  May- 
fair  and  all  bets  were  ordered  settled  on  that  basis. 

This  decision  satisfied  everybody  unless  it  was  Leech 
himself,  who  was  ruled  off  the  Churchill  Downs  course 
forever. 

A  few  days  later  Frank's  horse  was  as  well  as  ever, 
and  then  the  boy  entered  another  race  just  to  show 
what  Mayfair  could  do. 

Frank's  horse  came  in  first  with  ease,  beating  the 
time  of  the  other  race  by  several  seconds. 

"He's  a  dandy  steed,"  said  Diamond,  and  hundreds 
of  others  said  the  same. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  the  combine  left 


The  Race  Won.  315 

Louisville  for  other  parts  of  Kentucky,  and  then  moved 
onward  to  Virginia  where  Frank  Merriwell's  skill  was 
still  further  demonstrated. 

And  now,  let  us  ring  down  the  curtain,  wishing 
Frank  Merriwell  and  his  chums  good  luck. 


THE   END. 


•'BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS 


By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu- 
larity accorded  to  the  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly,  whole- 
souled,  honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals 
to  the  hearts  of  the  boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and 
his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessary 
for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero.  Frank 
Merriwell's  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious  , 
lad  to  follow. 

Twenty-four  volumes  ready 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Return  to  Yale 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Meniwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  Merriwell's  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  Merriwell's  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell's  False  Friend 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  Merriwell's  Brother 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
oy  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(i) 


THE  MOTOR  POWER  SERIES 

^VrTWTT^^T^^'^V^'^^W^1V^1^^"F^^W^T^"r^^W^V^*p^V^WrT^^'^VT1*'* 

Donald  Grayson's  Famous 
Motor  Stories  for  Boys  %* 

Mr.  Grayson  is  an  accomplished  writer  of  up-to-the- 
minute  juvenile  stories  which  are  eagerly  read  by 
modern  American  lads. 

In  his  new  series,  his  characters  have  exciting  adven- 
tures with  every  kind  of  motor-driven  machines — motor 
cycles,  automobiles,  aeroplanes  and  submarines. 

You  may  readily  see  what  a  vast  field  for  adventures 
Mr.  Grayson  has  chosen. 

Now  Ready 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  CYCLE 

BOB  STEELE  ON  HIGH  GEAR 

BOB  STEELE  FROM  AUTO  TO  AIRSHIP 

BOB  STEELE  AFLOAT  IN  THE  CLOUDS 

BOB  STEELE'S  SUBMARINE  CRUISE 

BOB  STEELE  IN  STRANGE  WATERS 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  BOAT 

BOB  STEELE'S  WINNING  RACE 

BOB  STEELE'S  NEW  AEROPLANE 

BOB  STEELE'S  LAST  FLIGHT 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(2) 


BOYS  OF  LIBERTY  LIBRARY 

NEW  SERIES  of  splendid  tales  of  the  wonderful  and 
stirring  adventures  of  boys  who  fought  in  The  Revolu- 
tionary War,  The  French  and  Indian  Wars,  and  Naval 
Battles  of  1812. 

The  stories  are  written  in  an  intensely  interesting  style,  and  no 
boy  can  read  them  without  being  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
patriotic  enthusiasm. 

We  give  herewith  a  list  of  titles  now  ready.  Read  the  first  and 
you  will  want  to  read  all  the  others.  I2mo.  Cloth,  handsomely 
bound. 

PAUL  REVERE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  FIRST  SHOT  FOR  LIBERTY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FOOLING  THE  ENEMY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  HERO  OF  TICONDEROGA.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

ON  TO  QUEBEC.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FIGHTING  HAL.     By  John  De  Morgan. 

MARION  AND  HIS  MEN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  GUARDSMAN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  LIVELY  BEE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  TORY  PLOT.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

IN  BUFF  AND  BLUE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

•WASHINGTON'S  YOUNG  SPY.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

UNDER  GREENE'S  BANNER.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MINUTE  MEN.    By  Harrie  Irving  Hancock. 

THE  QUAKER  SPY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

FIGHTING  FOR  FREEDOM.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  COLONEL.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

A  CALL  TO  DUTY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

IN  GLORY'S  VAN.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE  TRADER'S  CAPTIVE.    By  Lieut.  Lountberry. 

THE  YOUNG  PATRIOT.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

"  OLD  PUT"  THE  PATRIOT.    By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  FIVE.    By  Commander  Post. 

THE  KING'S  MESSENGER.    By  Capt.  Frank  Ralph. 

DASHING  PAUL  JONES.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

FROM  MIDSHIPMAN  TO  COMMODORE.    By  Frank  Sheridan 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  ESSEX.     By  Frank  Sheridan. 

LAND  HERO  OF  i8u.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkisa. 

FOLLOWING  MAD  ANTHONY.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

THE  YOUNG  CAPTAINS.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  BRADDOCK.    By  William  Murray  Graydoa. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(3) 


THE  ROB  RANGER  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  LIONEL  LOUNSBERRY 

A  capital  series  showing  what  can  be  accomplished  by  a  boy  of  ability  and  courage. 
Rob  IB  a  hero  whose  example  of  courage,  honesty  and  manliness  can  be  followed  with 
profit.  Rob's  horse.  Silent  Sam,  and  his  dog  Trumps,  play  an  important  part  in  the 
series,  and  cannot  fail  to  win  admiration  and  affection.  No  better  stories  for  bright 
healthy  boys  could  well  be  imagined. 

ROB   RANGER'S   MINE,  or  THE  BOY  WHO   GOT  THERE.     By  Lieut. 

Lionet  Lounaberry. 
ROB  RANGER   THE  YOUNG   RANCHMAN,  or  GOING   IT  ALONE   AT 

LOST  RIVER.     By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsbcrry. 
ROB  RANGER'S  COWBOY  DAYS,  or  THE  YOUNG  HUNTER  OF  THE 

BIG  HORN.    By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  CIRCUS  SERIES 

BY 

STANLEY  NORRIS  VICTOR  ST.  CLAIR 

Where  is  there  a  boy  w  ho  does  not  love  a  circus  and  who  does  not  also  love  to  take 
a  p«ep  "behind  the  scenes"  of  the  great  white  canvas?  There  are  adventures  galore, 
enough  to  satisfy  any  healthy  youngster. 

PHIL    THE    SHOWMAN,    or    LIFE    IN    THE    SAWDUST     RING.      By 

Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  RIVALS,  or  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG   SHOWMAN'S    PLUCK,   or   AN   UNKNOWN    RIDER    IN   THE 

RING.    By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  TRIUMPH,  or  A  GRAND  TOUR  ON  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
ZIG-ZAG,  THE   BOY  CONJURER,  or  LIFE  ON  AND  OFF  THE  STAGE. 

By  Victor  St.  Clair. 
ZIP,  THE  ACROBAT,  or  THE  OLD  SHOWMAN'S  SECRET.     By  Victor 

St.  Clair. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  MATTHEW  WHITE  SERIES 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to  please  the  full- 
blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yet  containing  nothing  to  which  there  can  be  any  objection 
from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the  kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 

ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG  ATHLETE.— A  slory  of  how  a  boy  saved  his 

father's  name  and  fortune. 

ERIC  DANE. — Interesting  experiences  of  a  boy  of  means. 
GUY  HAMMERSLEY.— How  an  energetic  boy  cleared  his  name. 
MY  MYSTERIOUS   FORTUNE.— An  extremely  interesting  story  of  a  $«oo,ooo 

check. 
THE  TOUR  OF  A  PRIVATE  CAR.— Interesting  experiences  of  a  young  private 

secretary. 
THE  YOUNG  EDITOR.— Experiences  of  a  bright  boy  editing  a  weekly  paper. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  tale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(4) 


The  Famous  Adventure  Series 

An  ideal  series  of  books  for  boys  of  all  ages.  The  stories 
are  of  the  bright  and  sparkling  kind,  full  of  adventures  on 
land  and  sea  and  not  over-burdened  with  lengthy  descriptions ; 
in  fact,  just  the  sort  that  must  appeal  to  every  healthy  boy 
who  is  fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism. 

The  names  of  the  authors  give  sufficient  guarantee  to  their 
merits.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  Henry  Harrison 
Lewis,  who  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis, 
and  has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys. 

A  VOYAGE  TO  THE  GOLD  COAST.    By  Frank 
H.  Converse. 

An  adventurous  trip  of  New  England  boys  to  Africa. 

CAMP  IN  THE  SNOW.    By  Wm.  Murray  Graydon. 

Boys'  winter  camp  life  in  northern  New  England. 

CENTREBOARD  JIM.     By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

The  secret  of  Sargasso  Sea. 

FROM  LAKE  TO  WILDERNESS.    By  Wm.  Murray 
Graydon. 

Adventures  around  the  northern  lakes. 

HOW  HE  WON.    By  Brooks  McCormick. 

Triumphs  of  a  plucky  boy  afloat  and  ashore. 

IN    SEARCH    OF   AN    UNKNOWN    RACE.     By 
Frank  H.  Converse. 

A  thrilling  story  of  exploration  in  Brazil. 

KING  OF  THE  ISLAND.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

Strange  adventures  on  a  South  Sea  Island. 

TOM  HAVEN  WITH  THE  WHITE  SQUADRON. 
By  Lieut.  James  K.  Orton. 

The  adventures  of  a  young  inventor  of    submarine  boat. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  SO  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(5) 


THE  ANNAPOLIS  SERIES 

By  ENSIGN  CLARKE  FITCH,  U.  S.  N. 

A  graduate  of  the  U.  S.  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and 
thoroughly  familiar  with  all  naval  matters  Mr.  Fitch  has 
devoted  himself  to  literature,  and  has  written  a  series  of 
books  for  boys  that  every  young  American  should  read.  His 
stories  are  full  of  interesting  information  about  the  navy, 
training  ships,  etc. 

BOUND  FOR  ANNAPOLIS,  or  The  Trials  of  a  Sailor  Boy. 
CLIP,  THE  NAVAL  CADET,  or  Exciting  Days  at  Annapolis. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TRAINING  SHIP,  or  Clif  Faraday's 
Pluck. 

FROM  PORT  TO   PORT,  or  Clif  Faraday  in  Many  Waters. 
A  STRANGE  CRUISE,  or  Clif  Faraday's  Yacht  Chase. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  7o  cents  per  volume 

THE  WEST  POINT  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  FREDERICK  GARRISON,  U.  S.  A. 

Every  American  boy  takes  a  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of 
West  Point.  No  more  capable  writer  on  this  popular  subject 
could  be  found  than  Lieut.  Garrison,  who  vividly  describes 
the  life,  adventures  and  unique  incidents  that  have  occurred 
in  that  great  institution — in  these  famous  West  Point  stories. 

OFF  FOR  WEST  POINT,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Struggle. 
A  CADET'S  HONOR,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Heroism. 
ON  GUARD,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Celebration. 

THE  WEST  POINT  TREASURE,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strange 
Find. 

THE  WEST  POINT  RIVALS,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strategem. 
Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(6) 


A     000  034  435     8 


